


Dancing with Desire

by KikiJ



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Body Image, M/M, Meet-Cute, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex, Sexuality, idiots to lovers, like legit they are dense in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27960281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiJ/pseuds/KikiJ
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is a 23-year-old former figure skater living in Barcelona. Although skating is still a bit of a sore spot for him, his best friend Phichit has made it to the Grand Prix Finals for the first time, and he’s scored Yuuri a VIP pass. Yuuri is ecstatic to join the spectators at the event and cheer his friend on. If he’s lucky (or maybe unlucky, depending on how nervous it would make him), he might catch a glimpse of his idol, Victor Nikiforov.Eros, on the other hand, is the name of a stripper at L’Envie, one of Barcelona’s finest strip clubs right downtown. He’s confident, seductive, and enticing. He’s everything that Yuuri is not. In fact, when Eros meets Victor Nikiforov three nights before the Grand Prix Finals, he captivates his attention instantly.The difference between Yuuri and Eros is so stark, in fact, that most people would be shocked to find out that they’re the very same person.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 135
Kudos: 425





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some stuff: this will eventually be explicit, I will add tags/change the rating when that happens, and I may update the tags if I think of more that apply lol.  
> I have never actually been in a strip club, so I've definitely taken some liberties with how they operate. I just really like them as a backdrop for fanfic ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I believe in fat positivity and health at every size, and in this fic Yuuri experiences some insecurities about his body and I've tried to treat them realistically- it's definitely informed my own personal experiences as a fat person and someone w anxiety. but I also understand from personal experience, characters dealing with body image issues can be triggering, so please be aware of that.

The last thing Eros was prepared to see tonight was _living legend Victor Nikiforov_.

But he never has had good luck, has he?

He only allows the revelation that comes with that shock of silver hair to shake him for a moment as he grips the pole with his hand and whips himself around it, climbing up and then glancing down at the crowd right below his stage as he slides gracefully back down.

His audience doesn’t seem to notice the temporary distraction. This isn’t like skating, he won’t be docked points for not getting as high on the pole as the night prior.

Tch. The last thing Eros wants to think about is _skating_ , but it’s hard when he can glance over and-

Victor Nikiforov is closer now, with a Swiss skater trailing behind (Christophe, he thinks? Yeah, that sounds right). They’re wearing their skating jackets. When Eros glances out to the crowd, he can see a spot more people in team jackets, too, but he doesn’t recognize the specific people wearing them.

Another turn or two around the pole, and Victor and Chris have reached his stage. Eros is dancing on the main stage, but it’s not the only one occupied at the moment.

Eros bites his lip before he runs his hand up his body, then slowly lowers onto his knees in front of the two professional figure skaters who have pushed their way close to his stage.

As soon as he’s close enough, Christophe reaches out and slips some bills into his skimpy shorts. His club, _L’Envie_ , requires the dancers to keep their bottoms on in _some_ capacity. Eros is already shirtless. Mostly naked. 

Eros smiles in appreciation and bats his eyes, then sends a heated gaze to Victor Nikiforov in all his silver-haired glory standing there with a smirk on his face.

Victor holds the money out and Eros plucks it delicately and stuffs it somewhere on his person. Then, he regretfully crawls away to accept money from patrons that are regretfully _not_ Russian figure skating legends.

After his routine, Yuuri presses a cool cloth to his upper chest as he stuffs money in his locker in the backroom, his ears buzzing from the music and his mind buzzing from the fact he just met his _idol._ Technically. Met might be a strong word.

He can’t afford to be Yuuri for very long. He needs to stay Eros.

But, he can be Yuuri for a moment longer.

One of the other dancers smirks at him. Always smirks at him, actually. His name is Hugo, but his stage name is Enrique. They’ve been out for drinks a number of times, they chat together on every shift they share- he’s no Phichit, but Yuuri likes Hugo a lot.

“Do you happen to follow professional figure skating?” Yuuri asks, leaning into the mirror as he twists and runs his hands over his hips.

“Uh, no,” Hugo says with a laugh as he shakes out his hair. It’s getting long, and it looks good on him.

Yuuri’s weight, and therefore his figure, has been in a bit of a flux since he left professional figure skating about five years ago, but it seems to have settled as of late. He’s not _particularly_ thin, despite the exercise he gets from the pole. 

His doctor in Spain told him, gently, perhaps his body just isn’t meant to be thin, and assured him he’s healthy at his size- his overall habits are more important than a number on a scale or on a measuring tape. His therapist tells him basically the same thing, and has been helping with issues of anxiety and self-worth, but it’s no easy journey.

Under the harsh glare of the stage lights in their backroom, he can just barely make out the stretch marks that live on his stomach. He covers them every night with makeup, although he’s not really ashamed any more- not usually, anyway. He covers them because it’s part of the job, but he no longer resents their existence the way he used to.

Interestingly, he’s noticed he makes more money when he’s on the heavier side anyway. Go figure, huh?

And Hugo tells him, as much as their job is predicated on sex appeal, looks are far from the only factor. Not even the most important, really- it comes down to the whole performance, more than the sum of it’s part, and the personality they put forward.

They’re selling a fantasy of someone attractive in _every_ sense. Someone who will listen, who knows when to laugh, who knows when to sympathize, _and_ looks good while doing it. Sexy therapists, really.

“Why?” Hugo asks, and Yuuri had almost forgotten he’d posed a question. He drops his hands from his body and clears his throat.

“Some famous figure skaters are here tonight,” Yuuri tells him, “Hot ones.”

“Ooh,” Hugo perks a brow. “Fun to get professional athletes at our humble little bar,” Hugo laughs. Yuuri snorts.

 _L’Envie_ is big, one of the nicest strip club in Barcelona, with a comfortable and sophisticated atmosphere (all things considered, anyway. naturally, debauchery is still common within these walls, but it's classy). It’s part of a network of clubs, with locations around the world managed by the same elite owners.

Yuuri shouldn’t even be surprised Chris and Victor are here. It’s a few days before the Grand Prix Finals, and he knew that. He’s got tickets to cheer on Phichit, obviously. He even has a VIP pass to watch him practice. 

To delay going out on the floor, Yuuri does any necessary touch ups to the makeup on his face. It’s not oppressive, doesn’t tend to take over his features in any way, it shouldn’t even be noticeable to the patrons. Some of the dancers go all out (it’s always more noticeable on the women, but there’s still a sliding scale from natural-looking to high drama) and Yuuri has done the dramatic, smoky looks on special nights, but- usually it’s subtle, just a little liner under on his eyes and foundation that matches and his skintone and just enough bronzer to accentuate his features.

“We should really hit the floor,” Yuuri says with a sigh as Hugo regards him, leaning against a vanity. 

“Hell yeah, go get with some pro figures skaters,” Hugo laughs, and Yuuri doesn’t even want to think of the prospect of running into Victor again.

When he steps back onto the floor, it’s harder than usual to shove himself into the role of Eros, but he spots someone that does help.

“Stefano,” Eros says, a genuine spark of happiness lighting up his face. The old man smiles and his eyes crinkle.

“Eros! I’ll buy you a drink. Jonas told me he’s just stocked a new wine,” Stefano says, and Eros dutifully loops his arm in Stefano’s elbow and allows himself to be escorted up to the bar.

Stefano is, by far, Yuuri’s favourite patron at the club. An older gentleman, he lost his life partner a few years ago. He still wears his wedding band, and has never been anything but kind and respectful. He tips well and asks Yuuri about his life and Stefano tells him stories about growing up in Italy. And, he gifts his favourite dancers (Yuuri included) wine from his daughter’s vineyard at Christmas.

Eros sips his wine delicately, always careful to watch how much he drinks on the job. It’s nearly impossible to avoid drinking anything, and, honestly, when he started there was level of buzzed which he preferred to be at. Not drunk or anything, but it could be difficult to do his job entirely sober. Yuuri understands that isn’t fantastic, needing to be drunk to do something isn’t a good sign, but the job paid well and he’s been doing it for a few years now, so it comes a lot easier now.

He still isn’t completely sober most nights. Patrons often want to buy them drinks before asking to dance, so it’s just hard to avoid.

Yuuri _has_ avoided everything stronger than alcohol (well. while on the job, anyway. college was an experimental time in many _many_ ways), so he considers himself to have an okay relationship with substances and with his job, on the whole.

Once Eros finishes his drink, he and Stefano go to a private room and Eros gives him a fun dance filled with mundane chatter about some birdwatching Stefano was doing, or, well, trying to do- his eyesight isn’t what is used to be, he explains. Eros asks him if he can replicate birdcalls and Stefano tries it out right then and there, sending Eros into a fit of giggles.

Eros squeezes Stefano’s hand before they part ways, silently thanking him for the distraction.

As he walks through the club, though, the distraction is short lived. Victor could be anywhere.

It’s Christophe that brushes the back of his hand along his arm though, gentle, trying to get his attention but not be too handsy.

Eros turns to him with a little smirk and the flick of his head makes his hair swish.

“You were beautiful on stage, mon chéri,” Chris says, and Eros smiles.

“Thank you,” Eros says.

“May I buy you a drink?” he asks.

“I’d love that,” Eros says, and Chris places a hand on his back to go up to the bar.

Eros leans against the bar and gives a signal for the bartender, Anna, to make his drink virgin, and she signals that she understands. He smiles at Chris.

“What’s your name?” Chris asks as he sips his drink.

“Eros,” he tells him.

“Oh, what a wonderful name,” Chris says, and he takes Eros’ hand to kiss it. “For passionate love, n’est-ce pas?” he tips his chin and Eros laughs, giving him a flirty look.

“Mhmm. What’s your name?” Eros returns as he’s given his hand back.

“Chrisophe. You may call me Chris,” he says.

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” Eros says as he leans his elbows against the bar and bends forward just a bit. He glances Chris up and down. “So, are you one of the figure skaters in town?”

Chris perks a brow, looking surprised and perhaps a bit excited to have been recognized. “You follow the Grand Prix?”

“You could say that,” Eros admits with a glint in his eyes as he plays with the straw in his drink.

“Oh, there you are,” they hear, and Eros stands straighter. 

“Victor,” Chris greets, and Eros swears internally. He was so wrapped up in being Eros for Chris, he forgot Victor might pop up at any moment. And he did.

Victor’s eyes land on Eros, and he sees a change there. Victor went from looking partially distracted and vaguely annoyed to, well, delighted. His smirk only grows as he glances Yuuri up and down shamelessly. Yuuri feels himself blush, _really_ blush, and thanks heaven for the dim lighting in the club.

“Victor,” Chris repeats, smirking widely, “meet Eros.”

“Eros?” Victor asks with a perk of his brow and, _fuck_.

“Hi,” Yuuri says. He _cannot_ afford to be Yuuri right now, though, even if this is his idol.

Now he wishes he’d gotten his drink alcoholic.

“Hello there,” Victor says with a chuckle, and Yuuri just breathes though his nose and gives him a dazzling, flirty smile back.

“Eros was just asking me about the skating competition,” Chris says, and Victor gets that same look of surprise and excitement.

“Oh?” Victor asks. Eros shrugs nonchalantly.

“I don’t follow _too_ closely, but the skating is beautiful. I recognized your jackets,” he explains with a gesture. “The two of you must be _very_ athletic to have made it this far in the competition,” Eros purrs.

They both glow, and Victor looks Yuuri up and down again.

“Well, you’re certainly athletic yourself. Not just anyone can perform the feats you did up on that pole,” Victor winks, and Eros glances down bashfully.

“It takes practice,” is how accepts the praise. Eros tucks a small strand of hair behind his ear, then settles against the bar again and takes another sip from the drink Chris bought him. 

There’s a bit more vaguely flirtatious chatter between them as Eros finishes his drink. Once he’s done, Chris and Victor look at one another.

“Eros,” Chris says, coming a little closer, “care to dance for me?”

Eros smiles, not missing the look Victor is giving Chris. It’s annoyed and petty, he thinks. “Of course,” Eros says anyway.

Chris and Victor look at one another- the glance is, again, meaningful, but Eros doesn’t know how this time. He hooks his arm in Chris’s, but he risks the glance back at Victor as he’s led away.

Victor is leaning on the bar, sipping a drink, and glancing his way with a slight turn of his head. Eros smirks at him- not cruelly, but as if he knows a secret. Then Eros looks back at Chris and laughs at something funny he was saying about a mix-up at the airport on the way there.

Eros secures the door of the private room and recounts the rules to Chris. Bottoms stay _on,_ etc.

“And no touching, except for here,” Eros says, drawing a box with his pointer finger on his hips. Chris nods, and they select some music to listen to as Eros dances for him.

Chris is chatty, complimenting him and still telling travel stories. Eros honestly likes it better when patrons talk, it gives him more to work with and removes some of the inherent awkwardness of dancing, scantily clad, for strange men.

“On a flight from Detroit, an older woman fell asleep on my shoulder. She was more embarrassed than I was,” Eros says, and Chris laughs.

“What brought you to Detroit?”

“My best friend lives there,” Eros says, settling in Christophe’s lap finally. Chris places a hand in the allowed spot and Eros touches Chris’s arms, body moving to the music.

“Oh, that’s sweet. I, too, have friends all over the world.”

“From skating?” Eros asks, and Chris nods happily.

“It brings us together.. the love of the ice,” he says, and Eros smiles wistfully.

“I,” Eros starts, and then bites his lip, “I couldn’t compare myself to you, of course- but I skated when I was younger. There’s nothing like the feel of the ice under your skates.”

Chris tsks at the self-deprecation. “Like what my dear friend said out there, we’re both athletes in our own right! And, in all honesty- I’d say the only thing that compares to the glide of the ice is the feel of the pole in my hand,” Chris says, and Eros laughs.

“You pole dance?” he asks, eyes flicking up and down Chris’s chest. Chris nods. “I’m not shocked,” Eros murmurs.

“It’s great fun. If I didn’t have my job, I’d want yours. Hell, maybe I’ll go into stripping, after. Once I win gold,” Chris says. Eros just smiles.

“I look forward to being your co-worker, then,” Eros says, “in a few days time.”

Chris tilts his head back and laughs. “I bet you say that to all the pro athletes who come through here!”

Eros winks, “Maybe.”

He finishes up his dance and they step outside to pay. Usually they’d stay in the room to wrap up, but they were both distracted by the conversation, so Eros doesn’t say anything. 

As Chris brings out his wallet, Victor comes up to him.

“Chris, status update. One of the young ones has gone back to the hotel, he was starting to feel anxious,” Victor says, and Chris nods as he starts counting bills.

“Oh, what a shame. A young one, you say? Which?” Chris asks, thinking, “Was it Yuri?”

Ice runs down Eros’ spine and he blinks, stunned for a second.

“ _Christophe._ Not that young! Yuri is fifteen years old, he didn’t come with us to a _strip club_.”

With that, it dawns on Yuuri that Victor was talking about the Russian punk, Yuri Plisetsky. The newest addition to the Senior division of men’s figure skating. He lets out his breath in a quiet sigh of relief. 

Neither Chris or Victor noticed his panic, anyway.

“Oh, right,” Chris laughs. “Which one, then? Otabek?”

Victor shakes his head, “No, no.. the, uh, Canadian?”

JJ, Yuuri thinks.

“Aaah, JJ,” Chris says, and Yuuri smiles to himself. Chris then turns to him with his own dazzling smile. “Sorry I didn’t square this away properly,” he says, and hands Yuuri the money. Eros blinks and smiles at him, taking it.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eros waves a hand.

“And,” Chris adds another wad of cash, approximately the same amount as he’d just given, “I’ll treat my friend here,” he winks at Eros, and glances at Victor.

“Awh, Chris,” Victor says with a chuckle. “I won’t stop you.”

Yuuri was wondering if he could, perhaps, make it out of this night without having to give Victor Nikiforov a lap dance.

No such luck.

They trail back into the room Yuuri just exited and Yuuri takes a deep breath to ground himself, thinking back to the moments before competitions where he felt the very same panic rising that he does now.

Still, when he turns around, he gives Victor the spiel about the rules, where he’s allowed to touch, clothing staying on, etc. Victor smiles pleasantly and looks up at him. Yuuri turns the music on, blocking out some of the noise in the club.

“You’re a very beautiful dancer,” Victor comments, and Eros just smiles at him wordlessly, a hand on his neck before he runs it down his side, onto his thigh and back up a bit. “How long have you been dancing here?”

“A few years,” Eros comments, and Victor nods.

“Do you like it?” he asks, and Eros chuckles lowly, nodding.

“It’s a nice place,” he says, “and dancing is fun.” Which is true. He _does_ like his job. It is fun.

It’s nice to step outside of Yuuri, to put away his anxiety and dance and please men. To captivate their gazes for a while. It excites him, and shocks him, that he’s even capable of doing it- despite the fact he’s been doing it for years. It still seems like it shouldn’t be real that, he, Yuuri, is able to harness this sensual power.

He glances at Victor with lidded eyes and sees the same look he sees night after night. It’s terrifying and thrilling at once, because he’s looked up for Victor so long and now he’s _here_ and he’s looking at Yuuri like he’s this delightful, sexy little thing that he wants to put his hands all over- but he’s not actually allowed to touch, and that drives him wild.

Yuuri allows himself to be lost in these thoughts as he climbs onto Victor’s lap and Victor places his hands in the spots he is allowed to.

“I like talking to customers. You meet a lot interesting people,” Yuuri adds, “like men who have won- what is it, _five_ goal metals at the Grand Prix Finals?”

Yuuri can’t entirely tell as he slings his arm around Victor’s shoulder and presses up against him, but he thinks Victor is blushing. He also can’t tell if it’s from his flirtatious praise, or his body. Probably both.

“You don’t follow skating too closely, hm?” Victor asks with chuckle.

“Even causal fans know about _Victor Nikiforov,_ ” Yuuri purrs, and Victor tightens his grip on Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri laughs, delicate and pleased. Victor bites his lip and Yuuri smirks. “You’re very cute, Victor,” Yuuri says. He doesn’t know why.

“And you’re gorgeous,” Victor returns without pause. Yuuri bites back a smile and bends backwards in Victor’s lap, then steps away to turn around and dance with his back to Victor, his eyes going wide temporarily because he’s not sure what’s been coming over him but he’s _glad_ for it.

He likes his job. He’s surprisingly good at it. Even when it involves grinding on his childhood idol and long time _crush_. Maybe especially when it involves that.

Victor asks him a few more random and innocent questions, which music he prefers to dance to, things like that. Yuuri responds with simple and polite answers, and they keep the air casual and flirty between them.

Victor tips him despite the fact Chris included a tip in the money he already gave Yuuri, and Yuuri thanks him.

“Good luck,” Yuuri says, with a wink. Victor grins at him, seeming genuinely pleased. “Not that you’ll need it.”

“I appreciate it all the same,” Victor smirks.

Afterwards, Eros feels lighter as he continues to walk around the club. It’s not every night you get to meet your idol, and it’s definitely not every night you get to turn them on and drive them wild with desire, but as terrifying as it was in the moment, he’s pretty sure this actually turned out to be the best night of his life, all things considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil translations:  
> mon chéri - my dear  
> n’est-ce pas? - is it not?


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri gasps, then swears in his native language as he looks up through his eyelashes at Victor Nikiforov.

Then, he feels Victor’s hands on his shoulders, steadying him.

Finally, he hears, “I am _so_ sorry,” at the same time as his paper cup clatters to the floor.

“No, no, I-I’m sorry,” Yuuri stammers. “I was looking at my phone,” he insists. Victor is still holding his shoulders.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Victor says, and Yuuri tilts his head. His phone is fine. Then, he realizes Victor means the hot chocolate.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, “no, no, it’s okay.”

“Please,” Victor says, and Yuuri notices Victor is looking him up and down.

It’s nothing like the gaze Victor fixed him with last night, though. It’s just innocent, looking to see who it was that he bumped into, rather than an unadulterated look of desire. Obviously, he hasn't been recognized, which is definitely for the best. 

“Um. Okay. If you insist,” Yuuri says plainly, then nods. Victor smiles widely.

“I do,” he chirps, and Yuuri nods again. He goes and picks up the cup, anyway, and throws it out before Victor walks him back up to the canteen in the rink.

It’s mostly empty. Yuuri has a VIP pass around his neck, allowing him to hang out and watch the skaters practice. He was texting Phichit to tell him he’d arrived when he walked straight into Victor _fucking_ Nikiforov yet again.

Victor informs the worker of the spill and waves Yuuri up to order his replacement. He orders a tea for himself, while he's at it. The worker nods dutifully.

“So, what’s your name?” Victor asks him cheerfully as he leans on the canteen and fixes him with another smile. 

“Yuuri,” he says. “I- I won’t pretend I don’t know your name already,” he says, and Victor tilts his head back and laughs.

“A fan?” he asks with a wink.

Yuuri presses his lips together and shrugs, and then Victor gives him a wide-eyed look, mock fear. 

“Not a fan?” he asks, and Yuuri’s eyes go wide in turn.

“N-no,” he starts, and Victor pouts at him, brows pressed up in a big, sad, expression.

“Awh,” he says.

“No!” Yuuri repeats, “I _am_ a fan,” he insists, and Victor is laughing at him _again_. “I-” he sputters. Victor continues to laugh.

“You are _very_ cute,” Victor says, and Yuuri’s blushing hard. He tugs on his slouchy hat, pulling it over his ears.

Yuuri’s new hot chocolate is placed on the counter, alongside Victor’s tea.

“Want me to sign something for you? Only so you can pin it to a dartboard, because you are most certainly _not_ a fan of mine,” Victor says, and Yuuri bites his tongue.

He’s not sure if he should debase himself like this, but he swings his bag around and digs out a little notepad from the front pocket.

Victor pulls a gold pen from his jacket pocket when he’s offered the notepad. Yuuri wonders, idly, if the pen was there last night when he was grinding on Victor’s lap.

At least he can write his continued blushing off as embarrassment from the situation and not the memories from last night.

“How’s your name spelled?” Victor asks him as he places the notepad on the counter, and Yuuri tells him.

The notepad is returned to him with ‘To my #1 fan Yuuri, <3 Victor’.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says. “For the hot chocolate,” he adds, and puts his notepad back in his bookbag.

“And for trampling you,” Victor adds, and Yuuri can’t help but smile this time. “Say, what’s a fan doing sneaking around before the Finals?” he asks, perking a brow. He looks Yuuri up and down again, looking at him with a sort of interest.

“Uh,” Yuuri holds up his little VIP pass, “I’m here to see a friend.”

And as if on _cue_ , he hears, “YUURI!”

They’d seen each other yesterday before Yuuri’s shift at the club, when Phichit had just landed, but Phichit is literally always that excited to see him.

Yuuri makes no attempt to hide his grin as Phichit lands in his arms and they’re hugging.

“Oh,” Victor says, and Phichit turns to him when he lets go of Yuuri.

“Oh, hi there,” Phichit says, a little red in the face himself. He’s been skating for years but he’s never really _met_ Victor before, Yuuri knows. “Um,” he glances between Victor and Yuuri.

“I was just buying Yuuri hot chocolate,” Victor explains, and Yuuri stares at him.

“To replace the one I spilled when he ran into me,” Yuuri explains, because Victor Nikiforov buying him a hot chocolate is not a casual everyday experience. 

“So you admit it was my fault?” Victor asks, and Yuuri bites his tongue again.

“That’s the story you wanted to go with, I just figured I would play along,” Yuuri explains, and Victor smiles at him _so_ dazzlingly. Yuuri’s brain short circuits for a second.

“You’re… Phichit, right?” Victor asks, turning to Phichit. Phichit doesn’t school his excitement quite in time, but he clears his throat and nods.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible.

“ _VITYA_ ,” they hear from near the ice, and Victor glances over.

“Hi, Yakov!” Victor waves at him. His coach grumbles. “Be there in a jiffy!” he adds. “I’m very late,” he informs the two of them, voice chipper.

“Oh, sorry,” Yuuri says. Then he tilts his head, “Weren’t you walking away from the ice when you- I- _we_ ran into each other?”

“I was,” Victor says. He offers no further explanation.

 _“VITYA!_ ” they hear again.

Victor sighs and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Well. See you, Yuuri, Phichit. It was nice meeting you!”

“Bye,” they both wave, and Victor walks off and trails behind his coach.

"What the fuck?" Phichit says once he's out of earshot, and Yuuri just gestures an 'I-don't-know.' 

Yuuri stays with Phichit as he buys something from the canteen, and they both walk over to the stands before Phichit goes off onto the ice.

Yuuri settles into the stands near the ice and sips his hot chocolate. There are a few other friends and family members milling about, but he’s left to his own devices for the most part.

Eventually, thought, Celestino makes his way over when Phichit is taking a little break and chatting with some of the other skaters.

“Yuuri,” Celestino says. Yuuri stands, and accepts the hug he offers.

“Hi,” Yuuri says, and they share a sad sort of smile.

Yuuri is still sore over his early departure from professional skating. Celestino knows this, having been his coach, and possibly because Phichit is one of the only people Yuuri will talk about it with, and Celestino probably overhears it occasionally. Yuuri will talk to Phichit, Yuuko, and sometimes Minako too. Well, and his therapist, sometimes. 

“How are you?” Celestino asks him.

“I’m doing well,” Yuuri says. It’s truthful. “Actually,” Yuuri says, “I’ve been skating more and more lately. There’s a smaller rink, a little further out. It’s nice, and they let me go after hours like I did in Hasetsu.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Celestino says. He places his hand on Yuuri’s back for a few moments, rubbing it soothingly like he did after a bad score in a competition. Yuuri bites down on his lip.

“I even tried my hand at choreographing something new. I’ve been… considering getting a coach. Not for any goal- just to have someone to work with, and help guide me. I might get more out of it that way, and, well, if it makes it less fun then I can just go back to doing it by myself.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Celestino says with a firm nod. Yuuri smiles, bright for just a second but settling into small and warm.

“I’ve landed some new quads,” he adds, and Celestino grins at him. It squeezes Yuuri’s heart in a way that is both comforting and painful.

“Always knew you could do it,” Celestino says quietly. Yuuri nods again, once more, and swears internally at the tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

“Phichit is amazing,” Yuuri says, looking back out at the rink. Phichit has started skating again, even without his coach there.

“He’s talented, and dedicated,” Celestino tells him. “He’s going places.”

Yuuri imagines Celestino might be thinking ‘like you were’, but saying that would only make it worse. Yuuri smiles, for his friend.

“I knew he would,” Yuuri says.

“Are you still doing dog walking?” Celestino asks him, and Yuuri nods with a smile. He leans over to show Celestino some of the photos of dogs he walks in his spare time, although Celestino has probably seen them all on Phichit’s phone.

They chat a bit, until Celestino really needs to get back to Phichit. Yuuri hugs him once more, briefly, and he heads back down.

Yuuri watches the rest of the practice until he has to leave to eat and get prepped for the nightshift.

\--

Eros doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

He should have seen this coming, but his eyes widen anyway when he bends back on the pole and his eyes meet those of an adorable Thai skater.

He brings himself back up and then slides down the pole and drops to the ground gracefully. Phichit gives him money, and is then jostled by Christophe, who also shoves money in Yuuri’s pants again, yelling, “Eros!” with a grin.

Yuuri wants _very_ badly to glare and pout at Phichit but instead he gives a sultry look to Chris and mouths “thanks” before pushing himself up and jumping back onto the pole.

When Yuuri looks back out to the crowd, Victor is looking at him with an adoring expression. He sighs internally, but externally he just smiles and continues his routine.

Tonight is gonna be tough.

In the backroom, Hugo presses to his shoulder, “Those skaters are here! I looked them up, they _are_ hot.”

“Thought I was lying to you?” Yuuri asks, and Hugo snorts.

“No. But I don’t know your taste in men! Or women- or people in general. You hardly ever date.”

Yuuri shrugs, “I’m busy,” he says. He adds, to himself: 'and awkward and anxious and secretly not that attractive even though I’m a stripper and besides, what man is gonna want to date a pole dancer who has other’s eyes and hands on them night after night?'

“Sure,” Hugo rolls his eyes. Yuuri just shrugs again.

When he’s back on the floor, Phichit grins at him like he knows a secret.

“What’d you say your name was?” Phichit asks.

He and Chris say,

“Eros,”

At the same time.

“ _Very_ cute,” Phichit says, leaning in, “bet whoever came up with it is really, really awesome.”

“Hmm, probably,” Eros says, and his eyes meet Phichit’s in a meaningful gaze. Phichit’s grin is shit-eating and Yuuri’s eyes are ice cold, despite his easy smile.

Chris perks a brow when Eros looks at him and he just shrugs.

“Did I hear you say you’d buy me a drink?” Eros asks, brushing the back of his hand along Phichit’s collar.

“Yes, yes you did,” Phichit says, and he places his hand on Eros’ back and turns them around.

Eros glances back at Chris just to know he’s far enough away for him to say,

“Phichit I’m going to _fucking_ kill you.”

Phichit also glances back before he says, “You love me.”

“Why are you here?” Yuuri whines.

“It’s fun! You know I love watching you dance,” Phichit says, and Yuuri shakes his head. "Plus, when Christophe Giacometti invites you out with him, you go." 

Yuuri groans. 

Phichit does, in fact, buy him a drink, though. Chris joins them again at the bar. 

“You want a dance?” Chris asks Phichit, voice a little low so Eros pretends not to hear, glancing out at the crowd. He spots Victor with some other men in skating jackets that he could _probably_ place if he tried, but, he doesn’t want to expend the energy.

Phichit shakes his head and says, “You go on ahead.”

“You good here alone?” Chris checks, and Phichit nods.

“This is not my first time in a strip club,” Phichit says, informative and polite.

Chris just nods, and then jerks his head to Eros. Eros smiles, reaching for his arm.

Before they can leave, though, Victor joins them. “Everyone is still accounted for,” Victor tells Chris, and Chris nods again.

“I’ll meet you back here in 15,” Chris says, then glances at Eros again, “make it 20.”

Chris and Victor hold each other’s gazes again and it suddenly reminds Yuuri of the look he just shared with Phichit. That of best friends who are driving each other crazy for no reason other than to start shit.

Eros smirks, playful, and lets himself be carted away by Chris. Like last night, he glances back at Victor and Phichit. Phichit is grinning, and Victor looks… mildly displeased. Yuuri winks at both of them, and then turns back to Chris and joins the conversation Chris is starting.

Eros takes a quick second to remind Chris of the rules and Chris nods along firmly, then they start the music.

Like last night, they chat the whole time, pleasant conversation. The air is a bit more rowdy than the night before, Chris obviously having settled into the new city and gained some energy back, no longer drained from the travel.

Chris pays him in the room this time, tipping well. Yuuri appreciates it.

He does not walk back to the bar with Chris, even though he knows Victor is supposed to be there.

“Eros,” he hears, and he smiles wide.

“Stefano,” Eros greets, reaching for his hands.

“Care for a dance?”

“For you, always,” Eros nods, and they return to the room.

“You seem happy,” Stefano comments as he settles down. Eros turns the music on.

“Oh?” he asks, and then shrugs. “I mean. Technically, my best friend is here tonight, but he’s being a nuisance more than anything.”

“Best friends will do that,” Stefano says with a laugh. “They still bring light to our hearts.”

Yuuri nods with a small smile.

“You’ve mentioned a friend before, from America?”

“That’s the one,” Yuuri says, moving closer. “Detroit. We.. used to skate together.”

“Oh! Isn’t there some big sporting event happening? They won’t pipe down about it on the news,” Stefano muses, and Yuuri laughs.

“The Grand Prix Finals,” he informs.

“Ah, yes, that’s it,” Stefano nods. “Your friend’s in that?”

“Mhm,” Yuuri says, settling on his lap.

“Oh! You must be proud.”

“I am,” Yuuri says, soft and truthful. His dance is suffering a bit due to the wistful conversation, but, honestly, the dance is more of a formality with Stefano. He’s definitely one of those men that comes to the club more for companionship than sex appeal.

“And,” Yuuri says, tuning into Eros again, “it’s brought many other hot men to town.”

Stefano tilts his head back and laughs.

“Of course, none as hot as you,” Eros assures him, running his hand down Stefano’s chest and up to squeeze his shoulder.

“You flatter me too much, mio bello.”

“Nonsense. I flatter you the exact right amount,” Eros says firmly.

As always, Stefano tips him well when the dance is over, and Yuuri gives him a little hug before returning to the floor again. 

A random man buys him a drink and they flirt for a bit, but he doesn’t buy a dance.

Then, Eros locks eyes with Victor Nikiforov. He tilts his head up and smirks confidently at Victor, and Victor glances away for a split second before sauntering over to him.

“Eros,” Victor says with a smile. “Sorry that I didn’t give you a proper greeting earlier."

Eros presses his lips together and smirks, “There are a few ways you can make it up to me, you know.”

Victor chuckles, and buys him a drink. When he’s finished the drink, Victor asks for a dance.

Upon returning to the private room, Eros runs through his usual rules and starts the dance. When he settles on Victor’s lap, places a hand on Victor’s shoulder, and presses their bodies together, Victor holds his hips.

“So,” Victor starts, “what’s your favoruite colour?”

Yuuri can’t say he’s _never_ been asked that, but, it’s not exactly a common one.

“Um. Blue,” he says, but it comes out like a question. Not very sexy. He bites his lip and tries to recover, but he just says, in a low voice, “what about you?”

“Gold,” Victor says, and Yuuri laughs. Fuck.

“It would be,” Yuuri manages to make his voice sound like a purr and Victor just grins up at him, cute. Victor shrugs.

“It’s a nice colour.”

Yuuri thinks of the pen Victor used to sign his autograph earlier that day. It occurs to him again that, well, _technically_ Victor could have recognized him. That’s a terrifying thought, so he rationalizes that there’s no way Victor would recognize him.

For one, Eros and Yuuri are like two entirely different people.

And two, Yuuri was wearing a big blue jacket, wide glasses, a beanie, and a scarf earlier today. Victor would have to see him with most of his clothes off to make the connection between Yuuri and Eros.

He guesses the voice could give it away, but, he generally speaks differently at the club. The voice he uses to flirt is lower and more husky, his regular voice is a lot more deadpan most of the time.

Victor compliments his dancing again and Eros manages to flirt some more without being entirely weird.

Victor tips well, and Yuuri breathes out a sigh of relief as he sees him walk away.

“Damn. That’s one of those skating guys, isn’t it?” Hugo asks as he appears at Yuuri’s elbow. Yuuri jumps, and glances at him.

“That’s Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri says. Hugo just looks at him like that should mean something.

“Hey, Yu-errr, Eros,” he hears from his other side, and then Phichit is looking sheepish.

“Hey,” Yuuri says.

“Oh, hey, he’s a skating guy, too!” Hugo says excitedly, and Yuuri is tempted to call him a himbo, but he doesn’t.

“This is Phichit. Phichit, this is Hugo,” Yuuri says.

“Oooh! Phichit! That’s why that sounded familiar,” Hugo puts his hands on the sides of his face.

“Hi! I’ve also heard a lot about you,” Phichit says, smiling widely. Yuuri can tell there’s a pinch there, though. Phichit has whined many times about being worried someone is gonna steal his best friend, and Yuuri has assured him many times that could never happen.

And a couple times he’s told Phichit that Yuuko was actually his best friend first so he’s gonna have to fistfight her, to which Phichit said “bring it on.”

Phichit gives Yuuri a hug before he has to leave, and says he would love to stay until ass o’clock in the morning but he has to practice the next day. Yuuri tells him he understands, and Phichit heads out.

Yuuri does have to stay until ass o’clock in the morning because it’s his job, but afterwards then he goes home and settles in for the night to sleep, trying to push the thought of Victor’s blue eyes out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil translations:  
> mio bello - (my) beautiful


	3. Chapter 3

“Smile, Yuuri!” Phichit begs him, and Yuuri gives an awkward smile to Phichit’s phone as they pose in front of what must be the third cathedral they’ve visited so far.

It’s the day before the short program of the Grand Prix Finals, and Phichit and Yuuri are out sightseeing in Barcelona.

Phichit took the morning to practice and it went well. Still, the nerves were starting to get to him, so Celestino gave them permission to go hang out and decompress. Practicing hard right now might make it worse than better- by some theories, anyway. 

The other times Phichit has stayed in Barcelona, Yuuri took him to smaller attractions, his favourite lowkey spots in the city. This time, Phichit insists on the true tourist experience.

They sit together on the stairs leading up to the gorgeous, imposing building as Phichit edits and posts the more recent batch of photos, then makes a couple of tweets and @ing Yuuri. Yuuri glances at the notification only to make it go away when he’s pinged, and then puts his phone in his pocket and sips his green tea.

“I think this one is my favourite of you so far,” Phichit says, showing Yuuri a photo of himself looking into the distance posted to Phichit’s Instagram.

Yuuri can see below the photo, @VNikiforov has liked it, and @IceCastleHasetsu, among 12 other people so far. Yuuri resents the blush on his cheeks, but it’s cold outside and his scarf is pressed against his face so hopefully Phichit doesn’t notice.

“I can’t _believe_ you gave a lap dance to Victor Nikiforov,” Phichit says out of nowhere, perhaps noticing the like on the photo enough to call it to mind. Yuuri punches him in the shoulder on instinct.

“You can’t just say things like that out loud,” Yuuri wails, and Phichit laughs. Yuuri punches him again.

“Hey, hey, _ow_ ,” Phichit yells, but Yuuri knows he’s going easy on him.

“He paid me to do it,” Yuuri says, like that’s some sort of defense.

“Twice,” Phichit grins, “he must find you really attractive.” When Yuuri scoffs loudly, Phichit adds, “I didn’t see him talking to any other dancers.”

Yuuri breathes in through his nose and considers telling Phichit to shut the hell his mouth. Instead, he says, “No?”

“No. It’s sort of funny, actually- it seems like he’s, I don’t know, a mother hen? He spent the vast majority of the night flitting around the room keeping tabs on anyone younger than Christophe, and then updating Christophe on everyone’s whereabouts. And Chris told me, yesterday, that the first night they went out, JJ felt really weird and guilty for being there because he has a fiancée, and despite living in Montreal apparently he’d never been to a strip club- I guess maybe I shouldn’t be telling you,” Phichit just shrugs and Yuuri shrugs too.

“I mean. It does take some getting used to. I don’t know if I’d wanna go to a strip club if I didn’t. Y’know...”

“Work at one?” Phichit rolls his eyes and Yuuri shrugs. “Anyway. Yeah. Victor seemed most concerned with just making sure the whole gang was accounted for and the only time I saw him really distracted was with _Eros_ so,” Phichit grins wickedly and Yuuri shakes his head once again.

“Hm,” Yuuri says. “We should get dinner soon.”

Phichit sighs, and then agrees. They go out to Yuuri’s favoruite place in the centre of the city, drink just a tiny bit of wine, and have an overall pleasant conversation.

Yuuri really misses Phichit when he’s not around, and Phichit returns the sentiment wholeheartedly.

\--

Yuuri doesn’t see any of the skaters at the club that night, which makes sense. The Short Program will happen tomorrow, the athletes are probably not staying up late or drinking.

It makes for a blissfully normal and uneventful night. Eros spends most time dancing for faceless, nameless people who look at him with lust in their eyes.

Better yet, though, Eros chats with Hugo, and with Anna at the bar, and dances for Stefano as usual. This time, he’s treated to a story of Stefano’s first spouse, (the mother of his daughter) and the night she drank so much he lost her in the middle of the city. Ultimately, he found her laughing quietly in the hotel bathtub after _hours_ of searching, so all was well. 

The next morning, Yuuri pulls himself out of bed early to get into the rink before the crowd and wait around for Phichit.

Phichit has a few minutes, before the start of the competition, to stand next to the barrier between the stands, where he’ll be getting on the ice. He goes over to talk to Yuuri, accepting a hug over the railing.

“You’re going to do amazing, Phichit, I know it,” Yuuri says. Phichit’s hands are shaking as they part, but he nods happily.

“I know,” he says, breathing in through his chattering teeth. He’s smiling all the while.

“Your routine is wonderful. You picked something very close and personal to you, the crowd will appreciate that. They’ll see your love for skating shine through,” Yuuri says, and Phichit nods quickly.

“Thanks, Yuuri,” Phichit says, and then he heard Celestino calling lightly. “You’re the best,” Phichit adds, and Yuuri smiles warmly.

“Good luck,” Yuuri says, and Phichit nods one more time before turning and walking towards Celestino so he can go do some stretches and get ready to skate.

Yuuri pushes back to standing from where he was leaning far over on the railing, and notices discomfort in his abdomen where he’d pressed too hard and not noticed it. Before he can turn away, though, he hears his name called.

Yuuri looks back over to see Victor wave, then start walking towards him.

“Oh. Hi, Victor,” Yuuri says, grip on the railing tightening just a bit.

“Hi, Yuuri,” Victor repeats and smiles at him innocently. Victor has absolutely none of the jittery, nervous energy that Phichit brought over. He’s as calm and collected as ever.

“I… didn’t realize you would remember me,” Yuuri blurts out, which is probably not a very polite thing to say. Victor doesn’t look offended, just bemused.

“Of course I would remember someone as cute as you,” Victor says, like it’s obvious. For added impact, he places his hands on top of Yuuri’s where they’re still gripping the railing, and smiles up at him.

“Oh,” is all Yuuri says.

Victor just hums and smiles at him. “How are you, Yuuri?” he asks.

“I’m. Good?” Yuuri tilts his head. Even if Victor isn’t nervous for the competition, Yuuri can’t wrap his mind around the casual conversation they’re having. Why would a professional skater be asking _him_ , a _fan_ , how he’s doing like this is just a normal day? Then again. A high stress competition is a normal day to a living legend, surely. Still. It’s weird.

“Hmm, that’s good,” Victor squeezes his hands. Yuuri just stares down at him through his glasses. “I’m glad to hear.”

Behind Victor, Yakov yells _“Vitya!”_

“Shouldn’t you start getting warmed up?” Yuuri asks, his hands feeling clammy on the metal railing. He wants to move them, but he isn’t about to take his hands away from Victor Nikiforov, either. 

“I have a few minutes,” Victor says with a shrug. Then, he takes his hands from on top of Yuuri’s, and Yuuri instinctively lifts his hands up just in time for Victor to scoop his hands in his own and wrap his fingers around them.

Yuuri’s eyes go wide ever so subtly and Victor swings their joined hands for a moment, then smirks up at him.

“Are you going to wish me good luck? Or would that be considered slighting your best friend who’s skating against me? Or, will you not because you’re not at _all_ my fan, and I’m your least favourite, and you want to see me fall to the very bottom rungs,” Victor says, increasingly dramatic, as he squeezes Yuuri’s hands.

Yuuri stammers for a moment, face turning red as Victor keeps talking. Victor looks _incredibly_ pleased with himself as Yuuri huffs and then clears his throat. “I _will_ wish you good luck,” Yuuri says, “because I _am_ a fan, actually, and, also- it’s the polite thing to do.”

“Awhh,” Victor coos.

 _“VIYTA!”_ they hear, and Yuuri glances over Victor’s shoulder for just a second, but Victor doesn’t show any indication that he even heard his coach.

“However,” Yuuri says, and he fixes his gaze on Victor’s again as he registers that his hands are being lifted. As he speaks, Victor brings Yuuri’s hands closer to his lips and Yuuri’s face burns, but he somehow keeps his voice level, “you know very well you don’t _need_ me to wish you good luck, Victor, you’re going to be brilliant out there no matter what. Your routine is-”

Yuuri finally feels flustered again when he remembers what Victor’s SP routine actually _is_ , so he cuts himself off and stares at Victor brushing his lips on his knuckles.

Victor’s Short Program is set to a beautiful instrumental song called _On Love: Eros_. It’s passionate, sensual, and breathtaking. Victor has skated it wonderfully many times over and Yuuri has watched the playbacks online repeatedly.

“My routine is what, Yuuri?” Victor says, and Yuuri’s eyes widen once again because Victor sounds- no, he can’t be. He can’t mean it like that.

But his voice is undeniably flirtatious in the way Yuuri has only heard at L’Envie, so far.

“It’s-” Yuuri tries, as Victor’s coach calls him once more, sounding more and more angry. “It’s very good,” he settles, but he’s flustered and he has a feeling Victor knows that _damn_ well. Victor chuckles lightly. “Also, I don’t care if your coach chews _you_ out, but I don’t want him to eat me alive, so, you should probably go warm up,” Yuuri says firmly and Victor laughs louder.

He kisses the top of Yuuri’s hands one more time, and then sighs. “You’re right.”

“Good luck, Victor,” Yuuri repeats as Victor _finally_ releases his hands. Victor smiles up brightly and says,

“Thank you, Yuuri. I’m sure I’ll do especially well, knowing you’re watching me,” Victor winks, and his words come across as cryptic to Yuuri for some reason. Then, Victor turns around and says, “Coming, Yakov!”

Then Victor’s gone, and Yuuri walks back to his seat, mind somehow both numb and reeling at the same time. On the way, he glances at a few young fans who have their phones out and avoid his eyes, but he doesn’t read into it very much as he settles to sit and wait for things to really get started. 

He thinks, the whole time, about _On Love: Eros_.

He actually has his own routine to the song. Victor announced the music and the theme before he ever debuted the routine and listening to it sparked something in Yuuri that he hadn’t managed to grasp before.

Since leaving professional skating, Yuuri’s had a complicated relationship with the sport. He still loves it with all his heart, and while it’s not _skating_ ’s fault that he had to leave it so early, it hurt too much to even be near the ice for the first little while.

Yuuri’s been back into it for a few years, now, building his skill back up by skating for himself and himself alone. For the love of it, and the feel of the ice under his skates. He was mostly doing practice drills and playing with old routines.

That is, until _On Love: Eros_.

It’s a silly thing, really. Obviously, the reason he connected to the music was, he picked Eros to be the name of his own alter ego when he started stripping at 19, and it was too perfect to hear a song called _Eros_ that would work so well as the backdrop to a skating routine.

Knowing Victor Nikiforov would share his own interpretation was intimidating, but, Yuuri rationalized that nobody would _know_ , nobody would ever see it or compare the two. So, he gave himself permission to be inspired and crafted his own routine, start to finish, for the very first time.

Admittedly, he _has_ tried, over the past couple years, to choreograph something. But nothing had ever worked like _On Love: Eros_ has. He’s proud of his routine, different as it is from Victor’s.

They do share some common elements, of course.

They’re obviously based in the same idea, both routines showcasing sexuality and desire. They’re both passionate and, at times, playful routines.

Victor can pull off the true essence of the routine better than Yuuri can, though. It frustrates Yuuri, at times. He _is_ Eros. Eros is _him_. He’s Eros, like, four to five nights a _week_.

Why can’t he harness that when he’s skating?

Perhaps because he still feels like Eros is an entirely different entity than Yuuri.

Yuuri pushes the thoughts out of his mind once the Short Programs really begin, and screams at the top of his lungs for Phichit.

And by the end of the competition, Yuri Plisetsky is in first place. It’s not a shock for anyone who has been paying attention to the qualifiers, or perhaps to his Junior careers, Yuuri included.

Afterwards, Yuuri finds Phichit to hug him and then clings to his side as much as possible when Phichit isn’t being pulled for interviews. He stands nearby as Phichit talks to fans so he doesn’t lose his friend to the waves of the crowd.

Yuuri is not at all expecting it when he feels someone grab him from behind, so much so that he yelps.

“Yuuri,” he hears, but not before he grabs the wrist of the person and spins around with a vicious glare identical to how he’d treat an impolite patron who isn’t abiding by the rules at the club.

“Oh, did I scare you?”

Victor looks sheepish but not upset, hand limp where Yuuri is holding his wrist in a death grip. He releases Victor’s hand with a soft noise of surprise. Yuuri can feel the blush creep onto his cheeks.

“You were right, he _is_ cute,” Yuuri hears the distinct Swiss accent of Christophe and he takes in a deep breath.

“Congratulations,” Yuuri says simply. Victor is in second place, of course. “You skated very well today.”

“Thank you!” Victor says cheerfully, and then there are people pushing a little closer to Yuuri. “This is Chris,” Victor says, and Yuuri looks to Christophe.

“I- I mean. I know who he is,” Yuuri says, and they both laugh at him. Yuuri tugs his hat down a little again.

“Awh. I hope you’re a bigger fan of his than you are mine! Though, of course, that’s not hard because you _hate_ my skating so much,” Victor says, and he drapes an arm over Yuuri’s shoulder, playing with the fabric of his scarf. Yuuri breathes in sharply through his nose.

“So cruel,” Chris adds with a sniff, and then Yuuri feels a hand on his back and he’s starting to dislike all this touching. It’s one thing in the club when he’s expecting it and used to it, but this is… not that. It’s crowded, and bright, and too hot- his scarf around his neck is starting to feel constricting. Or maybe it’s just Victor’s arm.

“Oh, hey, Victor, Chris!” Phichit greets, and at least Yuuri knows who owns the new hand touching him. “Good job today, both of you.”

“Thanks! You were excellent, too. I like your choice of song,” Victor says, and Phichit smiles brightly.

As uncomfortable as, well, everything is right now, Yuuri is glad to see Phichit getting praise from Victor. Phichit has taken his hand off Yuuri’s back so he only has to deal with the weight of Victor’s forearm on his shoulder now, so it’s a little better.

Chris also compliments Phichit, but Yuuri is feeling a little distant, because Victor’s arm is _still on him_. Victor is treating him like they’re friends, like he’s flirting, and it’s weird. Yuuri continues to zone out until Victor is slowly taking his arm off him.

“I should probably go talk to some of my fans,” Victor says, and there’s something to his voice Yuuri doesn’t have the mind to place.

“Of course,” Yuuri says with a nod. “Just to be clear, you _are_ talking to a fan. I- don’t dislike your skating,” Yuuri reminds him, and Victor winks.

“I know, зайчик,” Victor assures him. Yuuri tilts his head, but Victor doesn’t translate for him.

“It was nice meeting you,” Chris says, and Yuuri gives a little smile. Phichit snickers just a tiny bit and Yuuri pays him no mind.

“You too,” Yuuri says.

“Bye, Yuuri,” Victor says, and he and Chris walk away. Phichit laughs a little harder when they’re gone and Yuuri shoots him a look.

Yuuri has the night off, so, once Phichit is done at the rink they hang out in his hotel room for a while, until Phichit has to turn in for the night. Yuuri goes back to his little apartment and settles in, his mind still spinning from the whole day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Зайчик – bunny, an affectionate nickname for a guy :3 if i've used it incorrectly, oops sorry!!


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri’s voice is entirely lost in the deafening crowd of people screaming when Victor is announced the winner of the Grand Prix Finals for the _sixth_ year in a row.

The energy is so high, Yuuri can feel himself buzzing. There’s a tiny, _tiny_ sliver of disappointment that Phichit didn’t place, but- it’s the farthest Phichit’s gotten, and he's made a name for himself as Thai skater. That was Phichit’s personal goal and he reached it, so Yuuri is proud of him.

Phichit and Yuuri hug one another tightly when they meet up, Yuuri congratulating him for a routine well-skated. Like the day before, Yuuri stays in Phichit’s orbit as he gives an interview and greets people.

This time, Yuuri hears Victor _and_ sees him before his hands are on him. And this time, Yuuri is the one to reach for the hug first. Only because it seemed highly likely that Victor would be receptive, which he is.

“Congratulations,” Yuuri says right in Victor’s ear as Victor holds him tightly around the waist. It’s warm and crowded just like yesterday, but somehow _this_ feels comfortable. It feels nice, Victor holding him so close and choosing to share the joy of his win with _him,_ with _Yuuri._ It’s mesmerizing. 

“Thank you,” Victor says, and Yuuri drops back on his heels from where he’d pressed himself up against the taller man.

Yuuri unthinkingly runs his hand down the ribbon of the metal and then flicks his eyes up to Victor and takes his hand back somewhat suddenly. They both laugh.

“Since you’re my fan and everything,” Victor starts slowly, question in his voice, and Yuuri tilts his head.

“Hm?”

“Take a photo with me,” Victor suggests, holding up his own phone. Yuuri chuckles and nods.

Victor puts an arm around him and pulls Yuuri close to his front. Yuuri smiles brightly for the photo, Victor’s chin pressed to his head.

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, even though Victor was the one to ask for the photo, and he took it on his own phone. Logic has gone out the window in the energy post-competition. 

“Congratulations!” Phichit says as he joins them, and then Christophe is there too. “You, too, Chris!” Phichit adds. 

Chris just barely pulled ahead of JJ for bronze. It was, admittedly, not JJ’s best performance. Nerves had gotten to him during the Short Program, and while JJ did much better in the Free Skate, it wasn’t enough. It was sad, but Yuuri could entirely understand how the pressure could get to someone at this stage.

“Thanks!” they both cheer. Then, Victor runs his knuckles along Yuuri’s cheek.

“Yuuri, come celebrate with us,” he says, eyes lidded and voice a bit low. Yuuri opens his mouth to accept automatically.

He can’t, though. Yuuri bites his lip, putting his hand on Victor’s forearm, not to pull away but to keep him there and squeeze, assuring. “I… I can’t, Victor.”

Victor’s face falls and it unsettles Yuuri. He recovers quickly, though, tilting his head with a glint in his eye, “Why not?”

“I- well,” Yuuri clears his throat. “I have work,” he says, weakly.

“At night?”

“Um,” Yuuri says, “very early in the morning.” It’s not. _Exactly_ a lie. It _starts_ at night, and goes until about 2 or 3am, so, technically…

Victor makes zero effort to hide his disappointment as he strokes Yuuri’s cheek. “Okay,” he whines.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri pouts. Victor gives him a little smile, still sad.

“It’s not your fault,” Victor says. Yuuri should just call in sick, he knows, but- it’d be last minute and that’s always a dick thing to do. He _should_ have booked the night off, he doesn’t know why he didn’t think to do that, even if he didn’t anticipate _Victor Nikiforov_ begging him to come celebrate, he should have been free to spend time with Phichit.

Then he remembers that Phichit promised him it was okay because they’d get dinner and he’d just join him at the club to celebrate.

Yuuri really isn’t sure whether he hopes Victor and Chris show up at the club, too.

“I mean, we were going to go to dinner before the banquet,” Phichit offers, and Victor perks a brow.

“I have a couple of hours before I have to go,” Yuuri admits. “If you’re- I mean. If we go to eat right now,” Yuuri stammers, and Victor puts an arm around him.

“Let’s go!”

A few other skaters join them at the restaurant Phichit and Yuuri had planned to go to- some Italians, a Czech skater, and Yuri P who is _furious_ and a completely sore winner after getting silver.

Victor spends most of his time talking to Yuuri and Yuri, enraging Yuri further by dubbing him Yurio because of the name confusion.

“You knew _me_ first, you complete imbecile! He should be the one getting the stupid nickname,” Yuri stabs his food and Victor laughs.

“I like him better,” Victor says, and Yuri tries to stab Victor with his fork while Victor wrestles him for it.

Yuuri tugs on his hat and talks to Christophe who, somehow, seems to be exuding the least chaotic energy of the entire bunch tonight.

“How do you enjoy living in Barcelona?” Chris asks him, “it’s a gorgeous city.”

Yuuri nods, “I like it quite a lot. There’s plenty to do.”

“What did you say you did for a living?” Chris asks thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t,” Yuuri says, and thankfully a waiter goes to refill their wine and Yuuri has to politely refuse so it distracts from their conversation long enough for Yuuri to divert it to another topic.

When his alarm beeps, Yuuri stands up and zips up the jacket he never got around to taking off fully and says goodbye to the group. Victor runs his hand down Yuuri’s arm before squeezing his hand and saying goodbye.

“Congrats, again,” Yuuri smiles, and Victor grins at him.

“Bye,” Victor repeats, and Yuuri leaves the restaurant to go get ready. At the door, he turns to glance back at the group and catches Victor's eye, who winks at him with a wave. Yuuri just smiles once more, and leaves with a quiet sigh. 

Quite a few hours pass before he sees the group again.

Yuri P was, of course, left in the hotel room and JJ still hasn’t returned to the club, but many of the other skaters turn up and Yuuri manages to spot quite a few of them as he's making the rounds on the floor.

Victor’s face lights up when their eyes connect. Yuuri was expecting it, in a way. He still breathes deeply and tries to ground himself in Eros as Victor makes his way over, Chris trailing behind him.

“Have you already danced?” Victor asks, brushing his hand on Eros’ shoulder. Yuuri can tell _instantly_ that Victor is drunk just from the look in his eyes.

Eros nods, “I have.” Victor pouts, big.

“We missed it?” Victor asks, glancing over his shoulder as Chris presses near.

“Missed what?”

“Eros was already on the stage,” Victor informs in a sulky voice, and Chris also frowns.

"Oh no," Chris says, holding a hand to his face dramatically. 

“Sorry?” Eros laughs, and the two men just pout.

“Well. You know what’s better than watching him dance for the crowd?” Chris asks, and Victor tilts his head. “Having him dance for you alone,” Chris says, and Victor laughs.

“Oh, right,” Victor giggles. “Eros,” he says, and Eros tilts his head.

“Hmmm?” Eros asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Victor leans down, lips close to Yuuri’s ear, and asks, “Come dance for me?”

“Of course,” Eros says, and he takes Victor by the hand and leads him to the back.

Eros repeats the rules and Victor nods dutifully as he does. Eros turns on the music, and begins to dance.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Eros says as he settles in Victor’s lap and skims the back of his hand down the ribbon of the metal and traces his finger along the edge of the gold disc.

“Thank you." 

Victor’s hands start in the allowed place, but soon enough one slides to Eros’ back for just a second before he gasps quietly, and moves his hand back to the right place and says, “Sorry.”

Eros just laughs, pressing close.

It would usually annoy him to no end, a patron disrespecting the rules. And he _shouldn’t_ make an exception just because he likes someone. Even Stefano never disobeys the rules. But, when Victor traces a hand down to his thigh and then quickly takes his hand off and replaces it on Eros’ hips, Eros says nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Victor laughs, “I promise I don’t mean to break the rules. I'm easily distracted.”

Eros bites his lip, and then puts his hand on Victor’s.

“It’s okay,” Eros says slowly. “And if you’re not going to follow the rules anyway,” he says. Victor looks at him in confusion and a tiny bit of worry, but Eros guides Victor’s hand to his back. “Can you hold me steady?”

“Of course,” Victor says, making his arm secure around Eros.

Eros smirks, pressing up and then elongating, tilting backways, and slowly lifting his arms from Victor’s shoulders to bend completely in his lap. Victor’s arm keeps him steady.

Then, Eros slowly brings himself back up and slings his arm around Victor again, and is met with Victor’s blushing, stunned face.

“Like what you see?” Eros asks, and Victor nods quick, smiling almost _shyly_.

It’s a real power trip for Yuuri.

And it’s then, he realizes something that’s a bit startling to him. It probably shouldn’t be, it should have been obvious, 

He _wants_ Victor.

Yuuri wants Victor to fuck him, he wants Victor’s hands all over his body, wants to feel Victor bring him every pleasure.

Yuuri _has_ had sex before, although it would be particularly funny and ironic for him to be both a virgin and a stripper -presumably, it’s had to happen to someone before though, right?

But so far he’s only really had sex because he wanted to experience it, to try it out, see what it was like. His first time was with a random friend of a friend in college who asked rather casually if he was down to fuck and Yuuri thought “well. why not?” and said yes. He only told the guy after the fact it was his first time and the guy had chuckled and told him it was good, he wouldn’t have necessarily thought that.

After that, he dated a girl for three weeks and they had sex a few times, but it was, again, more of a “why not?” rather than something he _wanted_ , desperately. It was fun, and their split was as amicable as it was inevitable, and that summed up the majority of Yuuri’s experiences with sex and most of his experiences with dating, too.

Feeling such a strong _desire_ for a specific individual is… different. Sure, Yuuri’s had a crush on Victor and idolized him forever as a concept of a person, but it’s more apparent than ever now that obviously he never _knew_ Victor until he met him.

But, now he’s met Victor and Victor is _cute_ and dramatic and flirty and honestly a bit of a dork if Yuuri thinks about it. It’s endearing.

He’s also sexual and beautiful, which Yuuri also knew, but it’s different with Victor’s gaze on him like that. God. Yuuri wants to fuck him so badly.

Through that startling realization, though, Eros just continues, moving out of Victor’s arms to turn and dance with his back to him for a few minutes, feeling Victor hold him in only the allowed places again.

He puts everything he has into his routine as he thinks about Victor and refrains himself from taking Victor’s hands and running them across his body. Even if they’d both like it, it’s inappropriate for the work place.

At the end, Victor tips well, and Yuuri congratulates him again.

Before he departs, Victor strokes his cheek once with the back of his hand, and then disappears into the crowd. And Yuuri is left watching him go. 

\--

The next day, Phichit is free to spend it with Yuuri again, so they meet up and hang around the city, doing more sightseeing. Phichit posts more photos of the two on his social media.

As it’s getting towards the evening, Yuuri brings Phichit to the little rink farther out in the city, because Phichit has been _begging_ him to show him the routine that he created to _On Love: Eros_.

“This is silly,” Yuuri says as he holds his jacket around himself. Phichit _also_ convinced him to put on a real skating outfit for it. Yuuri managed to get the one from when he was 18 altered to fit, but, he feels weird wearing it when he’s not competing anymore.

“No, it’s gonna be awesome,” Phichit insists. “Off with the jacket and onto the ice,” he demands.

Yuuri has tried to video the routine before to just send to Phichit, but, as proud as he is, he’s still always felt something was missing. It’s never been _Eros_ enough for him.

His hair is slicked back the way he does when he’s at the club every night. Being out of his face makes it easier both to dance and to skate, and it’s fitting, because the routine is for Eros anyway.

Yuuri sighs, removes his glasses, and then takes off his jacket.

The outfit is black but partially see-through. On the shoulder there are some shiny stones, and it has a halfskirt at his hip that is lined in red. It’s both cute and has the potential to be seductive, which Phichit says makes it perfect for Yuuri because it describes him.

It doesn’t make any sense, but Yuuri still contests him on this- as if it’s impossible for him to be seductive. Despite seducing people for a goddamn living.

Yuuri sighs and skates out, doing some warming up as he thinks on seduction.

Yuuri _knows_ he can seduce people, even if he doesn’t feel that in his body. He knows the look on Victor’s face was real and raw, he _knows_ how turned on he was. Yuuri knows he turns men on night after night. Even if it sounds unbelievable.

He smiles, a little, when he thinks about Victor in particular. The look on Victor’s face was truly unmistakable. That look of unadulterated _lust_ , and after Victor had skated such a passionate routine to _On Love: Eros_ himself…

It’s confidence-boosting, to say the least.

Yuuri doesn’t usually want to _really_ seduce people, he realizes. He likes his job and he _does_ like the fact that he pleases men, it gives him confidence and has made him feel better in his body. But he’s never met a patron he wanted to actually sleep with. Not until Victor.

When he skates to the centre of the ice and yells for Phichit to start the music, it’s Victor he thinks of as he beings.

Phichit is recording, with Yuuri’s permission. Yuuri smirks at the camera like he actually is Eros, and then skates through the routine with almost nothing but Victor on his mind.

It’s perfectly executed, from start to finish. He even pushed some of the more difficult moves to the back as if he were aiming to get higher points. It contains quads and everything.

He’s breathless when he ends the routine, panting from exertion, but proud of himself.

It’s silent for a moment once the music ends, and then Phichit is screaming his head off, whistling, cat calling him, and laughing. In that order.

Yuuri skates over and shakes his head at his best friend.

“Holy fuck, I think you just got me _pregnant_ , Yuuri,” Phichit whines, and Yuuri rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can.

“Shut up,” Yuuri says, and Phichit just waves his face.

“You think there’s something _missing_ from that? I cannot agree. That was amazing. Like, holy hell,” Phichit says, and Yuuri just shrugs.

“Let’s see it?” he asks, and Phichit nods.

“Please, please let me post it. The world deserves to see it.”

“For one, I don’t think the world would see it, I mean- you have quite a few followers, but nobody has any reason to pay attention to _my_ skating, Phichit. I’m just a random person to the skating world, now,” Yuuri reminds him. “Also. No,” he adds.

They watch the video back, though, and Yuuri is, well... He’s impressed.

“It’s so good,” Phichit says, “and maybe it will get attention because it’s Victor’s song!”

“That makes it way more terrifying, you realize,” Yuuri points out. “Do not post it. But, I like it. I don’t think it was missing anything this time.”

Phichit grins at him, “I’m glad you agree on that. Do you know what made the difference?”

Yuuri thinks, and blushes before his train of thought even forms.

“Yuuuri?” Phichit says, and Yuuri shakes his head. “What is it? What’s the secret?”

“Nothing! I-” Phichit is shaking him and Yuuri whines.

“Tell me. What got you into the zone? Was it a person?”

“Hm.”

Phichit gasps, “Was it Victor?”

“Hmmmn.”

“YUURI!” Phichit shakes him more.

“Shut up,” Yuuri whines and Phichit cackles.

“You skated so well because you’re horny for Victor Nikiforov. No, no, wait- because Victor Nikiforov is horny for _you_. Oh God, that’s amazing.”

“I’m leaving,” Yuuri announces and he sits on the bench to take off his stakes as Phichit laughs loudly once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blessed Yule folks!!!!  
> ps idk if there is usually time between the Competition and Banquet but I wrote enough time in between for a dinner because i wanted to :P


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay, _all_ tickets are bought,” Yuuri says, pushing his glasses up his nose as he leans over his laptop on his bed and Phichit screams in his ear through the cell phone

Maybe Yuuri _is_ lucky sometimes.

The World Championships are being held in Paris this year, and Yuuri just to happens to have been asked to travel out to Paris for about a month to dance at Anónima, the Paris location owned by the same people as L’Envie.

Two of their male dancers are out of commission, their top dancer off due to an injury and another experienced dancer about to go on a paternity leave, so they’re in dire need of someone skilled.

Yuuri was happy to agree, and they’re even putting him up in a hotel while he’s there. The fact that he’ll be there during Worlds is the real icing on the cake.

The tickets are a bit expensive at this point, but Phichit has secured him a VIP pass again, which is nice.

And, well- Yuuri actually makes _quite_ a bit of money in his profession when all is said and done, and he doesn’t do a lot with it beside support a humble life for himself and send money home to his family. He can afford last minute tickets to a sporting event to see his friend.

“I’m so excited. I didn’t think I’d get to see you again so soon,” Phichit yells, and Yuuri smiles warmly.

“I can’t wait to cheer you on,” Yuuri says.

“Hey,” Phichit says, and Yuuri can hear something in his voice, “maybe you’ll see _Victor-chan_ again too~.”

“Ugh,” Yuuri says, but he can’t hold back the smile. The thought has definitely crossed his mind already.

Of course Victor will be at the World Championship, and of course he’s thought of what that might mean.

“As long as he doesn’t come to Anónima while I’m working. Don’t you dare suggest it to him, either,” Yuuri says. As much as he loves having Victor look at him with nothing but heat in his gaze, if he is going to run into the man again, he’d prefer it be as Yuuri- even if Victor doesn’t want to fuck him.

“I would never,” Phichit says, then coughs.

“I’m serious,” Yuuri tells him, firm.

“Okay, okay,” Phichit sighs.

They continue to chat on the phone for another little while, until Yuuri has to go and get ready.

That night, he tells Stefano he’s heading out for a few weeks and won’t be around. Stefano smiles and tells him not to have too much fun in Paris, and Eros winks at him.

“I won’t do anything you wouldn’t have done twenty years ago,” Eros says.

“Well, that leaves a lot on the table, mio bello,” Stefano nudges him. Eros laughs. He dances for him and Stefano talks about some knitting his neighbor was doing, and promises to bring him some wine the last night before he leaves for Paris.

After that, time seems slow until Worlds.

Once he's arrived, Yuuri spends lots of time just walking around Paris in his off-time, FaceTiming Phichit and looking at art in galleries and shops. He finds a few coffee places and bakeries that he likes, but he’s really just holding his breath until he can see his best friend again.

Finally, the day he's been waiting for comes along, and Phichit lands in Paris.

They spend most of their time together the first day, doing the tourist thing Phichit loves to do, snapping photos and thinking of cute captions for Instagram. They spend most of the time with their arms around each other in some way, feeling absolutely spoiled at getting to see each other again so soon.

\--

A couple days before the competition starts, Yuuri finds himself just outside of the rink. The jacket he’s wearing is lighter than the one he was wearing all the time at the GPF, but he’s still got a his dark blue hat and light blue scarf, as well as his backpack slung on his shoulders.

He’s checking his texts before he walking in, letting Phichit know he’s arrived and returning a message from Yuuko. She's excited for him, but wishes she could be there too. 

“Yuuri!” he hears suddenly, and he looks up for only a second before he’s being enveloped in a hug. The accented voice is one he recognizes well by now.

“Hi, Victor,” he says, a bit muffled. His arms are trapped by Victor’s hug so he can’t return it. When he pulls away, he looks up and sees Victor’s sparkling blue eyes.

“What are you _doing_ here?” Victor asks, sounding surprised and delighted.

“I’m here to see the World Championship?” Yuuri says. Not an entire lie, as usual.

“Right,” Victor laughs, “you came all this way?”

Yuuri blinks for a second, and then says, “Barcelona isn’t _that_ far from Paris.”

“Fair enough,” Victor smiles. Then, Yuuri smirks.

“Why do you ask? Are you disappointed to see me? Scared I’ll start a Victor Nikiforov Hate Club, seeing as I’m definitely not a fan,” Yuuri says. He’s not entirely sure why, it's not like their relationship is _that_ close to be teasing Victor, but... 

Victor tilts back his head and laughs, loud and happy. Even though Yuuri intended to make him laugh, he still flushes at Victor’s reaction.

“C’mon, it wasn’t that funny,” Yuuri mumbles, glancing towards the door. Victor puts his hand on Yuuri’s cheek, stroking it with his knuckles.

“It was just unexpected. I never know what you’re going to say, Yuuri,” Victor sighs. It sounds like a compliment.

“Likewise,” Yuuri says, then he glances at the door again.

“Shall we go inside?” Victor asks, and Yuuri nods.

“Let me find my VIP pass,” Yuuri says, reaching into his pocket.

“Oh, you’re so cute,” Victor says, and then he slings his arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and encourages him to walk forward.

“Uh, okay,” Yuuri says, walking with him. Victor pushes the door open, and some of the staff look at them, but make no move to check Yuuri’s credentials. His fingers are curled around the plastic of the VIP pass in his pocket anyway, but, on Victor’s arm he obviously doesn’t need it.

“There you are!” Yakov grumbles as they approach the boards, and then he glances between Yuuri and Victor. “Does this happen to be the other Yuri?” he asks, and Victor nods happily.

Yuuri tilts his head at the fact Yakov knows his name, but his attention is quickly taken by someone else.

Celestino happens to be standing next to Yakov, and he looks much more pleased to see them.

“Hi, Yuuri!” he says, “Phichit told me you’d be coming by.”

Victor tilts his head, as does Yakov.

“You know Celestino, Yuuri?” Victor asks, and Yuuri feels a frown tug at his lips despite himself.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Yuuri says, and Celestino clears his throat and shoots him an apologetic look.

“How?” Yakov asks, of course, and Yuuri sighs quietly.

“Oh, well…” Celestino starts, and Yuuri presses his lips together.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says. “I, well, I used to train with Celestino. Like Phichit.”

Victor’s eyes go wide and Yuuri kind of wants to punch him for the look of outright _shock_ , but he should give Victor the benefit of the doubt.

“You skate? Why didn’t you say something?” Victor asks, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder where his hand is still around him.

Yuuri shrugs, “I don’t, _anymore_ \- well, I mean, I don’t skate competitively anymore. I still _skate_ , I guess, but it’s nowhere near the level you’re at.”

“Still,” Victor says with a little frown, “I’m sure you skate beautifully, especially if you were training with Celestino.”

“He was one of my rising stars,” Celestino admits, and Yuuri purses his lips at him.

“But I’m not anymore,” Yuuri states. Yakov clears his throat.

“Vitya. We should be practicing,” Yakov says, a bit more gentle than usual. Yuuri… appreciates what he's doing. 

“Right,” Victor pouts.

“Say goodbye to Yuuri,” Yakov instructs, and Victor glares at him for a second before clearing his throat.

Victor turns to hug Yuuri, anyway, and says, “Goodbye, Yuuri. I’m sorry for- er. I’m sorry,” is what he settles on. Yuuri holds him tightly for a second and nods.

“It’s okay,” he says into Victor’s shoulder, and then they part ways.

Celestino stays behind as the two Russians head towards the locker rooms.

“I’m sorry,” Celestino also says, and Yuuri just breathes out slowly.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” Yuuri says, and Celestino claps him on the shoulder.

Yuuri goes to say hi to Phichit, and then settles in the stands to watch all the others practice. He has a bitter taste in the back of his throat, but there’s nowhere to really direct it. It’s not Victor’s fault he never got to follow his dream, nor is it Celestino’s, or the ice, or even himself. It was all due to fate and bad timing and circumstances and life.

It still hurts, though.

\--

Eros is on already on the pole when he sees them again.

His blood boils for just a split second when he wonders if Phichit went back on his word.

But, he doesn’t see Phichit anywhere. Just two Russian skaters, and Christophe.

The Russian skater that isn’t Victor, Eros thinks Georgi (?), looks sort of bummed out. Victor has a neutral expression, and Christophe’s eyes are wandering around the club.

Eros starts paying attention to what he’s doing again and climbs the pole, spinning around with graceful and sensual movements, wondering if he might get away with the pro skaters not seeing him.

They don’t come up to his stage so, perhaps he will be lucky one more time.

Yuuri’s never really counted on being lucky before, though, so he isn’t surprised when he’s leaning at the bar a while later and he hears two voices say,

“EROS?”

Eros looks over with a little smirk and flicks his hair, then lets his eyes go wide as if he wasn’t expecting to see them.

“Wow! Hey,” he says, pushing himself up from the bar and smiling at Chris and Victor.

“What are you doing here?” Chris asks, squeezing his arm for just a second.

“I’m covering a dancer out on injury,” Eros explains. “My home base in Barcelona is owned by the same people as this club, actually.”

“Aaaah,” Chris says, nodding, and Eros tilts his head and smiles.

“It’s good to see you,” Victor says, a glint in his eye.

Yuuri told himself he didn’t really want to see Victor at the club again, but he’s eating his words now. That look sends a particular flutter up his spine and Yuuri finds himself hoping Victor will ask him for a dance.

First, Chris offers to buy him a drink, and Eros nods and accepts happily.

“It’s.. the World Championship, right?” Eros asks with a tilt of his head, and the two skaters nod. “And to think, I nearly forgot. I’ll definitely be sure to tune in.” Apparently Eros is more comfortable with lying than Yuuri is. And better at it, too.

Chris changes the subject and they chat like they’re friends or something, and then Chris asks him for a dance. Eros agrees, and, once again, the gaze between Chris and Victor is impossible to miss.

It’s cute, their friendship. Of course Yuuri lowkey adores Victor, but he likes Christophe a lot too.

Victor excuses himself to find Georgi and Eros leads Chris to the private rooms.

The set up is slightly different than the other club, but it’s fundamentally the same. He recounts the same sort of rules in a different order, and Chris agrees.

As always, Chris talks the whole time. He asks Eros if he’s been in Paris long, and about the places he’s checked out. He also recommends a few places for Eros to look into before he leaves, which Eros appreciates.

After he pays, Eros walks back to the bar with Chris because they’re still carrying on a conversation about one of the smaller art galleries Yuuri had gone to. When they arrive, Victor looks mildly distressed and Gerogi’s forehead is on the bar. Eros tilts his head.

“I think we’re gonna head out soon, Chris,” Victor says, and his eyes flit to Eros and regret flashes on his face.

“Hm?” Chris says, and Victor looks at Georgi. Chris frowns. “Oh, cheri, I can take him. You stay and have a nice time.” He glances pointedly at Eros as well.

Eros resists the urge to roll his eyes, and instead just smiles with an air of mystery.

“You’re certain?” Victor asks, and Chris nods, then pats Georgi on the back. Then, Victor turns to Eros. “Would you… care for a dance?”

“Of course,” Eros says. So, they leave Chris to the whining Russian and head to the back again. As they’re walking, Eros glances back, “Um. Will he be alright?” he asks.

“Georgi?” Victor asks, and Eros nods. “Yeah. He’s had his heart broken. I was hoping this might help, but, um..”

Eros laughs lightly. “Not so much?”

Victor shakes his head, and they enter one of the private rooms.

Eros covers the rules, and Victor smiles at him.

“Sorry, again, for breaking them last time,” Victor says. Eros thinks his cheeks might be just a tiny bit pink.

“Are you _really_?” Eros asks with a perk of his brow, turning on the music.

“Well. I just- I wouldn’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Victor explains. Yuuri laughs through his nose and thinks of how touchy-feeling Victor is with him as Yuuri without regard for permission. He guesses, of course, that Victor would probably back off the instant Yuuri told him to- but he also doesn’t exactly ask either.

“You didn’t,” Eros says lowly. “Of course, we should play by the rules for the sake of professional boundaries,” he admits, tilting his head, “but I won’t lie and say I disliked it.”

Victor grins up at him, and with that, Eros begins to dance, sensual as always, and eventually climbs into Victor’s lap and presses their bodies together.

“You’re breathtaking,” Victor says, and then he adds, “I’m glad you happen to be in town.”

“Me too,” Eros says, and it’s not even just pandering to a client. As much as he thought he wouldn’t want to do this again, he’s happy to sit in Victor’s lap and dance for him, captivate his attention once more. It’s thrilling in a way that dancing for other men just isn’t, not now that he’s done it for Victor.

As always, Victor tips well and smiles brightly before he leaves, kissing Yuuri’s hand. For one second, Yuuri wonders if he should be jealous of himself that Victor shows similar levels of affection to both Eros and Yuuri.

But that’s ridiculous, because Victor is just his usual charming, flirtatious self with Yuuri and they’re just, uh, friends? He guesses, anyway. And Victor is just turned on by Eros, nothing less, nothing more.

Once the dance is over, Victor pays him, and parts with a smile. He says, “Until we meet again."

Eros nods. “Bye,” he says simply, waving and then turning to find someone else to dance for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to upload twice this week in the spirit of Christmas~


	6. Chapter 6

Yuuri startles when he hears the tapping on the glass next to him.

He’s sitting in a café across from the rink, eating a pastry and drinking a coffee. When he looks up at the glass, he sees Victor waving at him.

He watches as Victor walks over to the door, and, a moment later, he hears his named called in same excitable greeting that he’s almost growing used to by now. Victor strides over, and pulls out the empty chair opposite to him. 

Yuuri swallows the mouthful of pastry he was chewing and tilts his head.

“Victor, shouldn’t you be warming up? The Short Program is _today_.”

Victor waves his hand, “I’ve got, like, twenty minutes. Are you coming to watch?”

“Yes, I was going to head over in a few minutes."

“We can go together, then,” Victor grins, leaning his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his hand.

“Um. Okay,” Yuuri says, and then he lifts his pastry up again.

“How are you?” Victor asks.

“I’m doing well,” Yuuri says once he swallows. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Victor says. “Competitions invigorate me more than anything! Any nervous energy just gets translated into passion on the ice.”

Yuuri breathes out a little laugh. “That must be nice.”

Victor smiles a bit, and Yuuri can practically feel his desire to ask about Yuuri’s failed skating career. Instead, though, Victor asks, “Yuuri, how are you enjoying the _food_ in Paris?”

“Oh, it’s good. They make _very_ good bread here,” he nods, and Victor nods along.

“Oh, yes, I love the bakeries! A piece of warm, fresh bread on a chilly day is one of the most pleasurable experiences humans are privy to,” he says wistfully.

Yuuri chuckles at the drama of it all. “Do you miss the food in Russia when you travel?” Yuuri asks, and Victor nods.

“There’s no place like home. But I really enjoy seeing new places, and trying new things. I'm aware Japan has some amazing cuisine,” he adds nonchalantly, and Yuuri smiles.

“Do you have a favourite Japanese dish?” he asks, taking the last bite of his pastry and sipping his coffee.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I am partial to ramen,” Victor admits. Then, he smiles wide, “I’d like to try whatever your favourite dish is, from your home.”

“Katsudon,” Yuuri says, although Victor hadn’t exactly asked. Victor smiles at him.

“What’s that?”

“Pork cutlet bowl,” he says, and explains what it’s comprised of as Victor listens intently.

“Ooohh, that sounds _delicious,_ ” Victor says, and Yuuri nods.

“It is. My mother makes the best katsudon of all." 

Victor grins at him, looking just so pleased. It makes Yuuri feel like he’s going to blush, for some reason. He lifts his coffee and takes note that he has about a sip or two left.

“Yuuri,” Victor starts again, “what’s your favourite color?”

Yuuri is _about_ to say that he already told Victor that, but remember it was Eros he asked. “Blue,” he says, though perhaps he should have lied to maintain his cover.

“Ooh! Like my eyes,” Victor says, running his hand up his own cheek.

“Oh, yes, totally,” Yuuri says, then clears his throat. “And… I imagine yours is gold?”

Victor smirks at him. “Gold is a nice color. Wanna know my second favourite?”

“Hm. Silver?” Yuuri asks.

“Close,” Victor says, then he grins, “dark, dark brown.”

Yuuri perks a brow, “That’s. Nothing like silver,” Yuuri says. Then he furrows his brows. “Are you- did you say that because of _my_ eyes?”

Victor chuckles, “Maybe.”

“You’ve never seen me without my glasses.”

“Believe it or not, Yuuri, I can see your eyes even with your glasses on. They aren’t exactly opaque, зайчик.”

Yuuri blushes a little bit and shakes his head. “We should head over,” he says, standing up.

“Okay,” Victor says. When they’re standing together, Victor reaches out and messes with Yuuri’s hair. “This _is_ the first time I got to see your pretty hair, though.”

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri says, shying away just a bit from Victor’s touch. Victor chuckles and takes his hand away, but, a moment later, places it around Yuuri’s shoulder to walk out.

It occurs to him to be thankful he never pushes his hair back like Eros in his real life. Victor being able to see his face unobstructed might be risky in and of itself, so he vows to never take off his glasses in front of the other man.

They walk in to the rink together and it’s much busier than the other day. Again, no workers or officials say anything to Yuuri despite his VIP pass remaining in his pocket. Yuuri messages Phichit and walks Victor most of the way to the locker rooms until Yakov comes and threatens to haul him away. Yuuri gets a glare from the coach, which he tries to not take to heart because it’s not _his_ fault Victor is easily distracted and friendly with him.

Phichit comes to the barrier again like he did last time. Yuuri hugs him and wishes him good luck just as he did at the Grand Prix Finals, and then goes to find a place to sit in the stands.

Yuuri cheers on all of the skaters, but ultimately yells the loudest for Phichit, Victor, and Christophe. 

Victor is in first by the end of the Short Program, which isn’t surprising to anybody at all. Yuuri finds Phichit in the crowd and hangs with him like he did the last time, until he encounters Victor and gets drawn into his orbit, too.

“You should come out with us tonight,” Victor says, turning and placing a hand on Yuuri’s waist for just a second as some fans walk away and before more can come up to him.

“As long as Phichit can come,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods.

“Oh, that was implied,” Victor says, then he hums. “Say, did the two of you meet through skating?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods. Then, more fans come up and shyly ask for autographs, so Yuuri steps back again and Victor chats with them.

Another few minutes pass, and Yuuri catches Phichit again, “Victor wants us to go out with him."

“Victor wants _you_ to go out with him, and he wants me to come along so you will, too,” Phichit corrects him and Yuuri rolls his eyes.

“I think you’re exaggerating the situation,” Yuuri says diplomatically.

Phichit shrugs, “I disagree. But. Yeah, Chris mentioned something about a group of people going out, so I’m gonna assume it’s the same thing.”

“Then you were already invited, and Victor just wants _me_ to tag along,” Yuuri says.

“Victor wants you to what?” Chris asks as he comes up to Yuuri’s elbow and holds him at the waist. Yuuri’s spine prickles and he glances at Chris.

“Come out with you guys?” Yuuri asks, and Chris removes his hands from Yuuri. Yuuri breathes out. Chris has been surprisingly way less forward with Yuuri than Victor is, but it always feels a little more, uh, overtly sexual when Chris does show affection. Yuuri minds a lot less when it doesn’t take him off-guard in a crowd. 

“Yes! We’re all going to dinner, you should really come,” Chris smiles fondly.

“I will,” Yuuri confirms.

“Wonderful!” Chris says.

They linger around for a little bit longer before a couple more skaters join them, and they head out to a restaurant.

Yuri P glares at Yuuri the whole walk over, and he isn’t really sure why. Victor has a hand on Yuuri's lower back and is talking his ear off, so Yuuri doesn’t get the chance to ask what's up with the younger Russian skater. 

Once they're escorted to their large table, Victor pulls out a chair for Yuuri and sits next to him, and Phichit sits on Yuuri’s other side.

“So,” Victor says, “you were unable to pursue a career in skating?”

“Mhmm,” Yuuri says, pressing his lips together.

“What do you do instead?” Victor asks, and Phichit makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat, then asks Chris an unrelated question to start a separate conversation.

“Well, um,” Yuuri searches his mind for a second. Why didn’t he think of what he would say if asked, especially after Chris tried to ask him last time he went out with them. Stupid, stupid Yuuri.

Victor tilts his head and Yuuri breathes out.

“Before I was a skater, I did ballet,” Yuuri says slowly. He looks over at Victor, “now, I’m a dancer.”

“ _You’re_ a dancer?” Yuri P asks from across the table, and Victor gives him an annoyed little look before fixing Yuuri with a smile.

“You dance?” Victor asks in an entirely different tone, “I’d _love_ to see it!”

Yuuri blushes and God he doesn’t want to be blushing right now. But, he’s sure it will just come across as bashful, not mortified. Hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Yuuri says with a shrug. “Maybe someday.”

Victor grins at him and then winks. Yuuri looks away.

“So you dance, and skate.. what else do you do for fun?” Victor asks, and Yuuri shrugs.

“Um, back in Barcelona, I volunteer to walk dogs for people who get busy,” Yuuri says. Victor’s eyes light up.

“You like dogs?” Victor asks, and Yuuri glances at his phone on the table with his poodle-pattern phone case.

“Um. Yes,” he says.

“I _love_ dogs,” Victor tells him, voice still excited, “I have one!”

“I know,” Yuuri says with a little laugh.

“Oh,” Victor says.

“Literally everyone knows about your dumb dog,” Yuri P say with a roll of his eyes.

“He’s not dumb!” Victor pouts. “Besides, you’re just jealous because Makka is more popular with fans than your cat is.”

“He is not!” Yuri says, and Victor holds his chin high.

“Do you have photos?” Yuuri asks softly, and Victor gasps excitedly.

“Yuuri, what kind of question is that?” Victor asks, and he grabs his phone and taps to an album that is exclusively photos of Makkachin.

Yuuri leans into Victor’s space and Victor puts an arm around him again as they scroll through photos and videos of Victor’s dog for at least five minutes, until the waiter comes over and they have to make a very quick decision on what they want to eat because they’d almost entirely ignored the menu.

“God,” Yuri P mutters at least five times. Thankfully for him, Otabek arrives and excuses himself for being late. When Yuri finally has someone to talk to, he’s marginally less grumpy.

Victor continues to drill Yuuri with questions as they have some wine and wait for the food to arrive, about the type of place he grew up, what his parents are like, if he has siblings. Yuuri manages to counter Victor’s questions with “What about you?” so he finds out about St. Petersburg and Victor’s parents and that he’s an only child _but_ he has some cousins he’s very close with on his mother’s side that he always treated like siblings growing up.

“Do you miss St. Petersburg?” Yuuri asks as they get their food and he picks up his fork. Victor nods.

“Always, no matter where I go. But, I like the traveling, and seeing new places. Do you miss Japan?”

Yuuri nods, “I do. I’m actually going to for a visit pretty soon, before I return to Barcelona.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Victor says. “I’ll be back in St. Petersburg again soon, too. And I guess… for the foreseeable future,” he muses.

Yuri P glowers at the two of them again and Yuuri just tilts his head.

“This is… your last year, right?” Yuuri asks, and Victor nods. He’d announced he was retiring after the Grand Prix Finals, but Yuuri assumes he’s known for a while. “That’s big.”

“Yeah. I think it’s time, though,” Victor says. “I feel good about it.”

“That’s good,” Yuuri says thoughtfully. “I can’t dance forever, either. I might- I’ve been thinking, _maybe_ , I’ll look into coaching. Children, in skating,” he clarifies. Not pole dancing, though he could teach that, too. Not to kids, obviously. “My heart still belongs to the ice, and it would be nice to give back by teaching.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Victor says, voice sincere. “I bet you’d be a wonderful coach! You know, I’ve thought about coaching, too. I think I’d be horrible at it, though,” he laughs. Yuuri scrunches his nose.

“You’d have to be on time, and disciplined,” Yuuri says carefully. 

“So you’re saying I’d be horrible?”

Yuuri just hums and they continue to eat, and then they get pulled into a bigger group discussion with Chris and Phichit to talk about the most overrated tourist attractions in France.

When there’s a lull in the conversation, Phichit pulls out his phone and asks for a group photo. Everyone crowds in and Phichit makes sure they’re all in frame as he takes a bunch of shots. 

For one of them, Victor nudges Yuuri with his head, causing Yuuri to look at him and Victor to smirk back before Yuuri looks back at the camera and smiles shyly while Victor continues to gaze at him. They’re cute photos.

Although they got separate bills, Victor steals Yuuri’s and insists it be added to his own, which Yuuri tries to argue. Victor wins, and Yuri P calls them both disgusting.

“Where are you staying?” Victor asks as they step outside of the restaurant and their group begins to split up.

Yuuri tells him the name of the hotel. It’s not too far, so Victor offers to walk him back. Yuuri accepts, and bids goodnight to Phichit and Chris and the others.

Victor reaches for his hand as they walk and Yuuri’s sort of glad he isn’t wearing gloves, because Victor laces their fingers and it’s… nice.

“So,” Victor asks as he pulls them through a park that’s on the way but will certainly prolong their journey to Yuuri’s hotel, “you’re still dancing, but you couldn’t do skating?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, pressing his lips together.

“I… you don’t have to tell me, what made you leave skating. But I’m very curious,” Victor admits, and Yuuri laughs just a little, but it’s dry.

“I can tell you, if you really want to know.”

“I do,” Victor says. Yuuri nods.

“Let’s sit,” Yuuri murmurs as they come up to a bench. Yuuri takes a deep breath. “It’s not that long of a story,” he says with a shrug.

Victor squeezes their hands and looks at him, full attention.

“When I was 18, I was living in Detroit, I’d just started college, and I was skating with Celestino. I’d gone to the Junior Grand Prix Finals the year before and got bronze, so, we were going to try for the Senior division this time. I felt ready. But,” Yuuri sucks in his breath, “life got in the way.”

“Mmh,” Victor says, to show he’s listening. Yuuri huffs.

“My grandfather fell ill when I was training. I returned home when it became evident he would pass, so I could be there for my family. It was hard, but it would have been okay, if not for- when I was there, my town was hit with a bad storm. It’s coastal, so the high winds and rainfall tore some buildings to shreds, including part of my family’s business. They didn’t ask, so, in a way, I could have gone back to America- but,” Yuuri shakes his head, “I had to be there for my family. I needed to help them put it back together. I missed the start of college, and, I lost the scholarship I’d gotten with skating.”

At that point, Victor takes his arm and puts it around Yuuri in a now-familiar gesture, if a bit more gingerly than usual. When Yuuri leans into it, Victor holds him more firmly, rubbing his arm.

“Without the scholarship, I couldn’t afford to keep skating _and_ go to college in America. I _wanted_ to use the money I had to just keep skating,” Yuuri admits. “I wanted to so badly. But even if I could have made it in the Grand Prix, even if I could have been a star skater, that’s not guaranteed. Even if I was the best skater in the world, if I had taken my money to do that, and then something as simple as an _injury_ took me out one more season, I’d have nothing left. I couldn’t choose skating,” Yuuri says, that bitter taste coming full force and tears pricking his eyes.

“Yuuri,” Victor says softly.

“It would have been the most stupid, selfish thing imaginable to choose skating. So I didn’t. I chose college. And then I started dancing, and now I have a degree and I dance instead. It’s an income, and more reliable than skating,” Yuuri finishes, sniffing. “I wanted to skate, though.”

“Yuuri, I-” Victor breathes out and Yuuri looks up at him, rubbing a knuckle under his eye. “I’m sorry,” he says, and then he gestures a bit. “I, um, I’m not actually very good with- I’m bad at comforting people,” Victor admits, and Yuuri raises a brow at him. “I just, I wish I could say something more. But all I can think of is that I’m sorry,” Victor explains, and Yuuri nods.

“Well, there’s nothing you can say,” Yuuri tells him. “It’s.. It’s just sad, and it sucks, but there was nothing I could do then and there’s nothing you can do now.”

“Mhmm,” Victor says, and this time he lifts a hand to brush along Yuuri’s cheek, and then presses a kiss to his hairline. “моя любовь, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re a brilliant skater.”

Yuuri laughs a little, “You have _no_ reason to think that. You’ve never seen me skate.”

“I’d love to,” Victor whispers. “And, if you made it to the Junior GPF, there’s no way you were _bad_. And if you’re working as a dancer, you must be graceful, and I can see with my eyes that you’re beautiful. Plus, I can hear in your voice how passionate you are about skating. I know in my heart you must be good at it.”

Yuuri presses his lips together and sniffs. If you had have told him, months ago, that Victor Nikiforov would be holding him flush to his body, drying his tears, and insisting he was good at skating without ever _seeing_ him do it, he would have laughed you out of the room.

Somehow, it’s not even that shocking now, because it’s perfectly in line with how Victor has acted towards him since he ran into him by accident.

“Maybe I’ll show you, someday,” Yuuri says with a nod.

Technically, Yuuri has a few videos of himself skating on his phone, including his routine to _On Love: Eros_ and a perfect rendition of Victor’s routine to _Stay Close to Me_. He neglects to mention them.

“I’d love that,” Victor repeats. “And, I’d love to skate together.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, nodding again. He’s not sure if that’s ever gonna happen. In fact, after tomorrow, he’s not gonna have any reason to even see Victor again. Victor is retiring and, even if he weren’t, or if he became a coach, Yuuri can only infrequently go to competitions anyway. Yuuri ignores that.

“It’s getting late,” Yuuri says, and Victor squeezes him once more before they get up and Victor takes his hand again to finish walking him back to the hotel.

Before he sees Yuuri off, Yuuri makes the last-minute decision to kiss Victor on the cheek, and then he says, “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Yuuri,” Victor says, and he brushes Yuuri’s cheek with his hand. As always.

“Bye,” Yuuri murmurs again, and then he walks into his hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> зайчик - bunny  
> моя любовь - my love ((he's laying it on thick but Yuuri doesn't know ;P))


	7. Chapter 7

“So I say to Mashenka, _we need to cover up all evidence,_ ” Victor is saying as they walk into the rink. Yuuri is situated under his arm as usual, his own hand tentatively on Victor’s back this time, “’There’s no way тетя Caro can find out’.”

Yuuri laughs at the story, about the time when Victor was 10 and he and his cousin Maria -aka Mashenka, per Russian nickname convention- broke a vase when they were throwing a stuffed dog bag back forth.

“As if we could come up with a reason that the vase was no longer in it’s rightful place. Did it just grow legs and walk away?” Victor muses.

Yuuri laughs, “Did your aunt find out?”

“Almost instantly,” Victor admits, and Yuuri covers his lips to snicker more. “We were in a _lot_ of trouble. Mama almost banned me from the ice.”

Yuuri gasps dramatically, “No.”

“To be fair, it was a common threat. One of the only reasons I’d behave, usually,” Victor tells him fondly, and Yuuri laughs again.

“Sounds about right,” Yuuri comments.

He notices, vaguely, that Victor hasn’t let go of him yet even though he’s being pulled into the area usually reserved for skaters and coaches alone. The only non-skater or coach he sees is JJ’s fiancée, only recognizing her from Instagram and the fact she’s standing shoulder to shoulder with her man.

So, Yuuri looks at Victor curiously, “Um, Victor?”

“Yes?” Victor asks, letting go of Yuuri to stretch his arms above his head.

“I… don’t think I’m supposed to be back here,” Yuuri points out, glancing around nervously. Nobody is looking at him except for Chris, who just winks and smiles before turning to Georgi and saying something Yuuri is too far away to hear.

“You’re a Very Important Person,” Victor says, with a little shrug.

“Still, that’s only supposed to allow me in early, and in the seats for friends near the ice, it’s not-” Yuuri glances around again. There’s still nobody looking at him.

“It’s fine, зайчик, you’re with me,” Victor coos, lifting his hand to squeeze Yuuri’s shoulder.

“What does that mean, by the way?” Yuuri asks, tilting his head.

“Well, saying you’re with me in this context means that I brought you in here,” Victor says, and Yuuri narrows his eyes.

“No, um… Зайчик,” he tries, and he knows he butchered it a little, but Victor smiles widely at him. “What does it mean?”

“It means bunny,” Victor says affectionately, reaching up to play with Yuuri’s hair. “You’re cute, and skittish, just like a little rabbit.”

Yuuri’s face goes red as Victor laughs at him, then puts his bag down and sits on a bench to start putting on his skates.

“Do you have any cute stories you’d like to share with me?” Victor asks him, and Yuuri thinks for a moment.

He settles on a story involving Mari and Minako, when the girls were trying to sneak alcohol and Yuuri was their _extremely_ reluctant accomplice. His parents weren’t mad, just disappointed. Yuuri was mortified.

“Oh, hey, Yuuri! I was wondering where you were,” Phichit says, as Victor is standing in his skates and thus much taller than he usually is.

“I know I’m not supposed to be back here,” Yuuri says in a rush, and Phichit just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever. You can just go up in the stands where the other skaters usually sit, I’m sure it’s fine,” Phichit waves his hand.

Yuuri just nods and Victor smiles, “I told you, Зайчик, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Yuuri presses his lips together, “There are lots of things to worry about. And, I’m with you now, but, soon you’ll have to go with your coach and then I won’t have an excuse if someone asks what I’m doing back here.”

Victor takes Yuuri’s chin in his hand and smiles warmly, “You tell them you’re with me, then.”

“And they’re supposed to believe a random man who says he’s here with _Victor Nikiforov_?”

“Then you show them the pictures of us together,” Victor counters. “As well, I’m sure people have noticed you hanging around me. I’m a very well-known figure, you know.”

Yuuri blushes and glares at Victor, weakly. “You-”

“I?” Victor is brushing his knuckles along Yuuri’s cheek.

“You’re the worst,” Yuuri says. And then he glances at Phichit, who looks like he’s trying so hard not to laugh it hurts. Yuuri clears his throat and removes Victor’s hand from his cheek.

At that moment, they hear Yakov yell, “Vitya! There you are!”

Victor glances behind him, his hand still in Yuuri’s, to see Yakov standing with a sour looking Yuri P.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” Victor calls back. 

Celestino calls for Phichit, too, and Yuuri drops Victor’s hand to hug Phichit quickly. “Good luck,” Yuuri says, and Phichit nods.

“Thanks, Yuuri!”

Victor does not leave when Phichit does. Instead, he glances over his shoulder again, and says, “Here, come with me for a second.” Yuuri follows him out to the space where the skaters leave the ice, one other person hanging out near the railing talking to a friend. It's the Czech skater, Emil, Yuuri thinks.

Victor leans against the boards and holds Yuuri’s hands, breathing in slowly. “How are you, by the way?” Victor asks.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri says, tilting his head. “Why are you asking how I’m doing, you’re about to…” Yuuri trails off, glancing out at the ice as Victor swings their hands.

“Yuuri, have you considered that, perhaps, I care about how you’re doing because I like you?” Victor asks him with amusement in his voice, and then brings Yuuri’s hands up to nuzzle his cheek against them. It’s very sweet.

“Hmmm,” Yuuri says, and Victor laughs lightly.

“VITYA?” they hear, and Victor presses his lips together, looking over Yuuri’s shoulder to see if Yakov has come through.

“Maybe you should get going,” Yuuri suggests. Victor shakes his head.

“It’s my last time at Worlds, therefore, my last chance to sufficiently annoy my coach in an international competition. I have to do it right, Yuuri. I'm sure he’ll cherish the memory,” Victor tells him, and Yuuri laughs.

“You’re absurd,” Yuuri murmurs affectionately.

“You like me anyway,” Victor tells him, and Yuuri nods. Then, Yuuri sighs, and looks beyond Victor out to the ice again.

“Зайчик мой? Did I say something to make you sad?” Victor asks, perking a brow.

“Hm? No, it’s just-”

_“VITYA!”_

“It’s just what?”

“I think it’s really hit me, that this is- I won’t get to see you skate again, is all,” Yuuri says, then he shakes his head. “You’re the one retiring, though, I have no right getting emotional. This must be a lot for you.”

Victor kisses Yuuri’s hands again and then holds them between them. “It’s okay. You’re right, it is a lot. I haven’t- I haven’t been able to process it myself, yet. But I like you sharing your emotions with me, and it helps to know I’m not alone in feeling... bittersweet.”

Yuuri smiles and takes his hands from Victor to wrap him in a hug. Victor hugs back and hums, rubbing his cheek against Yuuri’s head.

“Besides,” Victor says, as Yuuri pulls back, “you told me last night we could skate together, sometime. So, it won’t be the last time you see me skate.”

Yuuri chuckles, “That’s different, but… you have a point.” Yuuri still isn’t sure he _believes_ Victor that they’re ever going to skate together. When he was younger he dreamt of skating on the same ice as Victor, but the reality would be a lot different than he envisioned if they were just skating casually as friends rather than competing with each other.

If Yuuri were to, say, skate hand-in-hand with Victor rather than trying to beat him in a high-stakes, high-pressure competition, well…

He’d be okay with that.

“ _VIT-YA.”_ they hear, and Victor laughs.

“He sounds very mad. I got Vitya _four_ times.” Victor says fondly, and Yuuri presses his lips together. Their arms are still loosely around one another.

“You should _go_ ,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods. They break their hug fully and Victor pushes himself from the boards, walking towards Yakov and his disgruntled face.

“Okay. See you afterwards?”

Yuuri nods. “Good luck, Victor.”

“Thank you,” he says. Before they reach Yakov, though, they pause, and Victor takes Yuuri’s face in his hands.

Yuuri tilts his head in question, and Victor is looking at him with… something, in his eyes.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks.

Yuuri lifts his chin slightly as Victor bends down, and Victor presses his lips to Yuuri’s. 

It’s chaste, and sweet. Yuuri kisses back for only a moment before Victor straightens his posture, pulling away.

“For good luck,” Victor says with a smile, and Yuuri nods.

Then, they part ways. 

Yuuri does what Phichit suggested and goes up to sit where the other skaters will eventually join them after they skate, along with very close companions.

He finds one of the female Italian skaters and JJ’s fiancée, again.

He suddenly feels weird and awkward to be there, but the Italian, (Sara? Yeah, that’s it), smiles at him and says,

“You’re Yuuri, right?”

Yuuri blushes, and nods. “Um. Yeah. Phichit’s best friend.”

“Right,” she laughs, and then JJ’s fiancée snorts as well. He presses his lips together, but their laughing doesn’t feel _mean_ , just… secretive?

“I’m Sara,” she says, and Yuuri nods.

“I-I know. I’ve seen you skate,” Yuuri says, then he adds, “you’re very good.”

“Ah! Thanks,” Sara says, “have you met Isabella, then?”

“Oh, um, no,” Yuuri says, and JJ’s fiancée waves at him.

“Hi!” she says, and he waves back at her.

They ask him a few questions about himself, like, how he met Phichit, how he met Victor, and Yuuri answers their questions, and comes up with some polite things to ask them in return, until a couple more people join them. Then, the skating actually begins.

When all is said and done,

Victor gets silver _._

Yuri P takes gold, and, Yuuri is sure he’s never seen Yuri smile so widely.

Phichit doesn’t place but he’s far from at the bottom, and Yuuri is forever proud at how far he’s come. The level of competition he’s made it to is no small feat.

Yuuri clings to Phichit after the award ceremony, congratulating him for putting his all into the competition and skating his heart out. Phichit hugs him, and they linger a bit until Yuuri catches Victor’s eyes.

Yuuri glances at Phichit and Phichit just pushes him towards Victor. Yuuri smiles, and walks into Victor’s open arms.

“Congratulations,” Yuuri says, looking up- but not as far as he had to when Victor was in skates.

“Thanks!” Victor says, and Yuuri can tell there’s a tiny bit of a pinch to it. Yuuri presses his lips together.

“Your skating was beautiful,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods and just pulls him into his chest again, his fingers carding through Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri hums, feeling the silver metal pressed to his body where it’s hanging around Victor’s neck.

Yuuri can tell this isn’t the note Victor _wanted_ to end his career on. Obviously he’d be happier to have gold. But he seems to be holding up fairly well.

“Yuuri,” Victor says rather suddenly, as they break their hug.

“Hm?”

“Give me your phone,” Victor requests, and Yuuri produces his phone and unlocks it, looking at Victor with a curious expression.

When Victor gives it back, it’s open to a new contact with Victor’s name and number in it. “Oh,” Yuuri says. He sends a text to Victor’s number that says ‘It’s Yuuri.’

“Thanks,” Victor says, and then they’re being pushed out towards the crowds.

Yuuri’s phone goes off in his hand as Victor puts an arm around him. He’s expecting a text from Phichit, but it’s actually from his shift manager at the club asking if he can call, and then his phone is ringing.

“Hello?” Yuuri says into the phone, and Victor squeezes his shoulder before nodding towards an interviewer coming towards him. Yuuri nods and Victor goes towards the interviewer as Yuuri takes the call.

The manager is _begging_ him to come in because one of the other dancers called in sick at last minute and Yuuri is frowning. He was planning on going out with Phichit and he had sort of assumed Victor and Chris would invite them to whatever they were doing as well. Although Victor had won silver instead of gold, it was still something to celebrate. It was the end of an era.

But Yuuri’s never been good at saying no, especially not when it comes to work, and the manager does little to give him a choice.

“Um, okay. It’s no problem. Yeah. See you soon,” he says, and he clicks off the phone as Phichit circles back over to him away from some people he was talking to.

“Who was it?”

“I got called into work,” Yuuri says, and Phichit frowns a bit. “I need to go, to get ready,” he says, and then he looks over to Victor with a wistful look on his face as Victor wraps up his talk with the press.

“Why didn’t you say no?” Phichit asks, and Yuuri just frowns at him. Phichit sighs, then smiles. “I’ll come to the club later,” he says, and Yuuri nods. Phichit hugs him, and starts to walk away as Victor approaches Yuuri again.

“Yuuri,” Victor singsongs as he reaches him. “You look sad. I- is everything okay? What was that call?”

Yuuri bites his lip, “It’s not serious, but, I have to leave.”

Victor frowns. Yuuri expected the look but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, and Victor just keeps pouting.

“I was hoping you’d come celebrate with us,” Victor explains, and Yuuri nods.

“I wanted to. I _want_ to, but-” Yuuri looks down at his phone. He should call back and tell them he can’t come.

But, he won’t.

Victor lifts his chin, “It’s not your fault,” he says with a sigh. Yuuri just gives him a tight frown.

Victor then glances over his shoulder for a second as Yuuri sighs, and then Victor bends down again and catches his lips, right there in the middle of the lobby.

“I should go,” he says, and Victor nods sadly.

“See you, Yuuri,” Victor says, running his hand down Yuuri’s arm.

Yuuri squeezes Victor’s hand before he turns around to head out, sighing loudly to himself.

As he gets ready, he wonders what he’d be doing if he hadn’t been so stupid as to accept the request that he come into work. Maybe Victor would be holding his hand at a restaurant, or showing him more photos of Makkachin.

Yuri P would be _insufferable_ , Yuuri imagines he’s an incredibly sore and unsportsmanlike winner. Yuuri smiles fondly at the thought as he eats some leftovers in his fridge.

His mind continues to wander, wondering if the last few years of his life would have been this way if he was in professional skating with them, going out after competitions with Victor, hanging out in groups with the other skaters, making more friends.

Hm. Probably not, Yuuri reasons. He’d be much more shy and under way more pressure if he was competing. He probably wouldn’t have made friends with Victor the same way.

Yuuri avoids thinking of the specifics of their relationship beyond the idea that they’re friends. He thinks he can consider himself Victor’s friend, at this point. _Perhaps_ a guy that Victor flirts with. Probably just a temporary thing, someone who caught Victor’s eye, that he won’t ever hear from once they both leave Paris.

Yuuri wishes he hadn’t left Victor on such an abrupt note, but… sometimes things are like that. Victor won silver his last time skating at Worlds, and Yuuri couldn’t join him for a night out afterwards. It’s hardly the worst thing life has thrown at him.

He ignores that this time he _did_ have a choice and he made the choice to disappoint Victor, and himself. He should have said no to the extra shift.

Sighing, Yuuri gets up and starts to get ready for said shift. He has only a few more nights in Paris before he flies back out to Hasetsu for a much-needed visit with family, so he might as well do his best at his job.

Paris definitely doesn’t count as a vacation, even though it's a change from his norm. He could use a break from the whirlwind energy of the skating competitions he’s been attending.

\--

Eros is on the pole when he spots Victor, Chris, and Phichit. He also sees JJ, his bronze metal glinting in the light when he moves, with Isabella is on his arm. Finally, he spots Sara and Emil, but not Sara’s brother.

He dances as usual, and smirks when the skaters push towards the front. JJ looks mildly uncomfortable even with the smile on his face, but his fiancée looks incredibly pleased as she and Sara whoop and pull out money, getting closer to the stage.

Eros kneels to accept it and, as always. Chris also pushes forward to slip the money directly on his person. Eros laughs quietly as he does think, and they wink at each other.

Victor hands him the money like he has the other times and Eros grins even though he feels shy. He gets back up to continue his routine, moving to the music and listening to the shouts from the two women rising above even the usual crowd.

When he looks back down, he notices Sara smirk excitedly, and her expression looks like one of sudden _recognition_. It makes Yuuri’s blood run cold, but he can’t say anything.

He also sees her and Isabella giggle together, but then his routine is wrapping up so he trails off to the backroom.

The thing about being in Paris is he doesn’t have his usual support network. He can’t commiserate with Hugo in the backroom, he can’t look forward to getting a fun chatty dance with Stefano where they talk about the new hobby he’s considering that week.

Not that he’d even spill anything that was happening to either of them, he hasn’t even let himself work through his own feelings on the matter. However, they offer a nice distraction, something to take his mind off things.

Eros can’t hide in the backroom all night, standing in the mirror staring at himself. He brushes his hands along his hips, to his thighs, and tries to push away the idea that Sara recognized him as Yuuri and might have told the whole group of people.

When he exits the backroom with a sigh, Phichit is there, pressing closer to him than he’d like for an average patron.

“I tried to dissuade them from coming, I promise- and it was never my idea,” he’s saying.

Yuuri smiles, “It’s okay. They were here the other day. Chris and Victor, that is. They’ve seen me.”

“Oh,” Phichit says, tilting his head, “did you tell me that?”

“Hm. I don’t think so,” Yuuri says, “sorry.” Then, he clears his throat. “Um. Do they know it’s me?”

Phichit tilts his head, “If they haven’t recognized you yet, then I don’t see why they would now.”

“I think Sara and Isabella recognized me,” Yuuri tells him, and Phichit makes a noise in understanding.

“They didn’t say anything to me, and Chris said your name was Eros when we went up to watch you, so…” he shrugs. Yuuri nods. Maybe the crisis has been averted, but he still feels worried.

Yuuri bites his lip and looks out to the crowd, Phichit’s arms still around him from the side.

“Are you.. do you think you’ll be okay? Maybe I can fake sick and make Victor take me out for air,” he says, and Yuuri shakes his head.

“I already made him sad when I said I couldn’t come celebrate. I don’t want to disrupt his night more.”

“Okay,” Phichit says.

“Now let go of me, this is highly inappropriate,” Yuuri says, but he’s smiling.

“Do _not_ get me thrown out,” Phichit warns.

“I make no promises,” Yuuri tells him, and Phichit lets go and they both laugh.

Yuuri takes a deep breath and then goes to walk the floor. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long before he’s spotted by the group of skaters who call him over by the name _Eros_.

Eros smiles and greets them, and allows Chris to buy him a drink. Sara and Isabella talk to him as Isabella plays with JJ’s hair, asking him how long he’s been dancing and if he likes working in the club, usual things for people to ask him. He answers them.

“You want a dance?” Chris asks Sara with a tiny bit of subtly, and she considers it before shaking her head no and glancing over at Victor.

“I’m okay!” she says.

Victor has been quiet, turning his silver metal around in his hand. If he notices the interaction, he doesn’t say anything.

After that, Sara pulls Isabella, JJ, and Emil back to watch the dancers now heading out on the main stage.

When it’s just Eros, Chris, and Victor, Eros sidles up a little closer.

“Hey,” Eros says, and Victor smiles sweetly. “Congratulations,” he says, nodding towards the metal.

“Thanks!” Victor chirps. Then, he flicks his eyes up and down Eros like he has each time they’ve met in the club, and he glances at the backrooms. “Dance for me?”

“Of course,” Eros says, and they leave Chris flirting shamelessly with a bartender who is smirking at him.

Eros repeats the rules and starts the dance, but Victor’s energy is lower than usual. Yuuri assumes he’s just still sad that he didn’t get the win he really wanted to go out on. It _is_ sad, to break a streak like that on his last time skating the competition. Even though it’s not a failure, Yuuri can understand why he’d feel like it was- hell, he’d probably feel the same way in Victor’s shoes (or, skates, rather).

“Are you disappointed?” Eros asks, as he settles on Victor’s lap and uses a finger to tip his chin up, and then skims his hand along the silver disc.

Victor is quiet for a second, then says, “Trying not to be.”

Eros smiles and nods, moving a little more slowly in time with the song he picked. He reaches for Victor’s hand and brings it to his back like the way he did on the night he won gold. Victor perks a brows, but holds him steady the same way as last time, and Eros carefully bends back again.

Victor is smirking when Eros brings himself back up. Eros winks, and Victor chuckles.

“Was hoping that’d cheer you up,” Eros tells him, voice still low. He always speaks differently as Eros than he does Yuuri, he reminds himself. Like Phichit said, if Victor doesn’t recognize him yet, he probably won’t now, but he’s still hyperaware of how he’s speaking and hopes it’s different enough.

Victor nods with a cute little smile. “You’re very pretty,” Victor tells him, and Eros laughs delicately.

“Thanks. So are you,” Eros says.

Victor’s attention is fully on him for another few minutes, but it slips eventually and Victor glances down and flips the silver metal in his hand again a couple times, and then looks back up at Eros. Victor looks him up and down, and smiles.

As Eros climbs off his lap to dance a bit differently, he says, “Maybe if I weren’t on the clock, I’d kiss you to make you feel better,” and winks.

Victor’s face flushes again, looking a little stunned like the first time he did the back bend. Eros chuckles once more.

“I- well,” Victor says, “I actually have eyes for someone.”

Eros tilts his head, turning around. He’s glad for the chance to stop looking at Victor, because the energy is a tiny bit awkward now. “Oh, that-that’s okay. I’m just flirting.”

“Ah, no, I know. I know this your job, I’m just-“ Victor clears his throat. “You. Well. You sort of- you me think of him,” Victor explains.

Eros turns back around, despite himself, and hums. “Oh,” he says. “What’s he like?”

You wouldn’t believe how many men sit in the private room and just talk about their girlfriends, boyfriends, and partners- so it’s really not weird to ask. 

Victor smiles, much more innocent than he tends to while he’s in the club, “He’s wonderful, _very_ cute. He’s got dark eyes and darker hair, and he likes skating,” Victor sighs wistfully. “He’s funny, too. Very funny.”

Eros hums again, “He sounds nice.” And Victor nods his head. “Does he know you come to strip clubs?” Eros asks with a cheeky wink, and Victor flushes.

“We haven’t- I haven’t discussed that with him,” Victor admits, “I normally only come after competitions, and with Christophe, anyway,” Victor says, and Eros puts a hand on his shoulder. “And, well-”

“It’s your last one, right?” Eros bites his lip. “Sorry.”

“I’m ready to move on,” Victor tells him, and Eros just nods. God. What a weird energy he’s created.

After that, they’re quiet for the most part but Victor still seems pleased. 

And as always, Victor tips incredibly well and squeezes Eros’ hand before saying goodbye. Yuuri watches him go, an unknown emotion stirring in his belly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> тетя - aunt  
> Зайчик мой - my bunny


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the rating has changed to explicit! There is sex, as well, discussions of body image, so if that might bother you, please take care of yourself! also, this chapter is very long, oops.
> 
> One more thing: This is the Last Chapter, and chapter 9 will be a short epilogue! I really hope you enjoy it if you've read this far~

Eros watches Victor leave the strip club with another sigh and wishes, again, he had’ve just gone out with Victor instead of taking a shift.

But, wouldn’t it be awkward if Victor brought him to the strip club? And what if Victor had wanted to see Eros, but was stuck with Yuuri.

Although, Victor said specifically he was thinking of someone else, anyway. Yuuri ponders that for a moment as he starts to make his way around and wishes, again, that Stefano were here so they could chat about birdwatching or something. This is too much information for him to process in the middle of a club.

Yuuri considers... was it- was the person Victor was talking about…?

But, no.

Well.

Victor _did_ kiss him, earlier. Yuuri.

But Victor hasn’t asked him _out_. He’s asked him to go celebrate with a group of people, sure, but is that really something that constitutes a date once you’re outside of college?

Yuuri isn’t sure, he doesn’t know what to think, so he pushes it out of his mind and gives a dance to a nice lady, and then continues to do his actual job until the night ends so he can go back to his hotel to fall asleep.

In the morning, he wakes to a text from Victor that says ‘ **Missed you last night! We’ll have to meet up sometime.** ’

Yuuri hums and texts back ‘ **Sorry again for having to leave so quickly. And, yeah, for sure ^-^** ’

Then, Yuuri texts Phichit and they meet for some food. They have plans to spend the day together before Phichit’s flight back to the USA.

In the afternoon, Yuuri’s the one to post the photo from breakfast on his Instagram for once. It features the two of them smiling with their eyes closed and holding up croissants in front of their mouth like smiles. It was Phichit’s idea, of course.

It almost instantly gets a like from Victor (among a few others) and Yuuri hums.

“I didn’t notice Victor followed me,” Yuuri says, and Phichit snorts.

“Hasn’t he been following you on twitter and insta since the GPF?” Phichit asks.

“Uh, I don’t know? I always just make the notifications go away without reading them,” Yuuri says, and Phichit shakes his head.

“I’m _pretty_ sure I noticed him follow you during the GPF. He followed me, too, and I was posting stuff with he two of us the whole time.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says.

“Yuuri,” Phichit starts slowly, and Yuuri looks at him with a neutral expression that Phichit knows is questioning and hesitant, “you realize Victor has a _massive_ crush on you, right?”

“Hmmn,” Yuuri says, and Phichit sighs loudly.

“I saw him _kiss you_ at Worlds! And you didn’t even _tell me_ , by the way. Asshole,” Phichit says, reaching over to push Yuuri. Yuuri presses his lips together.

“That was just- I don’t know. He’s a _flirt_ , Phichit, everyone knows that,” Yuuri argues.

“I really- I’m not sure that’s true. I haven’t seen him flirt with anyone but you, and we hung around in the locker rooms plenty when you weren’t around,” Phichit says, and Yuuri shrugs.

“Well, yeah, I’m sure. I’m just his.. current conquest or something. It’s a little fling, doesn’t necessarily means something.”

“I don’t know,” Phichit says, and Yuuri just shrugs again.

“He’s never asked me out,” Yuuri points out.

“He asked you to go out with him twice,” Phichit retorts.

“In a group setting, you know that’s different,” Yuuri insists.

“But he walked you home after the GPF,” Phichit counters. “And he keeps asking you all these questions about yourself, and your life. He’s _literally_ sweet on you.”

“Hm,” Yuuri says. “I’m not convinced. Plus, there’s no reason for us to run into each other again. We just flirted for what essentially amounts for four or five days, he kissed me twice, and that’s it.”

“ _Twice_?” Phichit asks with a scoff.

“Before and after he skated his Long Program,” Yuuri clarifies and Phichit groans loudly.

“You are literally so obtuse,” Phichit says, “un-fucking-believable.”

Yuuri just breathes deeply. “Until he tells me he wants to be with me, I’m not going to assume intention was to date me! He obviously just thought I was cute and wanted to flirt, and I was receptive. That’s it.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Phichit says with a sigh, and Yuuri nods.

“I will,” Yuuri maintains. A moment later, he asks, “Wanna go get gelato?” Yuuri asks.

Phichit huffs. “Always,” he sighs, and the two of them get up and go to find a treat.

Yuuri thinks about what Phichit after as he sees his friend off, watching the cab drive off towards the airport.

It’s not even that he thinks it’s _impossible_ that Victor would want to be with him. As much as he thinks Victor is lowkey out of his league, their interactions and long talks have definitely given Yuuri a new understanding of the man he idolized for many years.

Victor is… cute, and sweet, and most certainly a flirt. Yuuri’s learned the way he shows his nerves before competitions is ridiculously different than the way Yuuri’s anxiety gets to him.

Instead of shying away, Victor gets a little louder and even more obnoxious than usual, which is pretty endearing.

Victor told him about his mother, and the fact that he can’t cook, and showed Yuuri photos of his dog that didn’t make the cut for his Instagram.

Victor is, ultimately, just a guy. A very nice, fairly flamboyant guy who took a liking to Yuuri for whatever reason- he isn’t sure what it was about spilling his hot chocolate on the floor made Victor want to flirt with him so badly, but Yuuri has never been complaining about the attention.

And Yuuri likes Victor. He likes this side of him, down to earth and sort of goofy.

They _could_ work together. If they wanted to.

But Yuuri has no idea where that would begin. He’s living in Barcelona, and Victor is living in St. Petersburg. Victor doesn’t know what he’s doing next with his life, it would be a turbulent time to introduce a new relationship, and Yuuri is fairly settled. Not that he’s opposed to making changes, either.

As always, Yuuri feels like he’s a victim of circumstance.

If they had more time. If they had have met earlier. If Victor was more clear with his intentions… If Yuuri weren’t so scared.

When he returns to his hotel room, Yuuri packs his bags, having taken everything he would need in Japan with him to Paris. His flight is in a couple days and he only has one more shift, so he gets ready.

None of the skaters are there and it feels weirdly empty despite the huge crowd.

Yuuri’s going to miss his best friend. They were so spoiled to get to see each other again so soon.

He’ll miss Chris, too, and he liked the time he spent with Sara and Isabella even if he only got to meet them the once- well, twice.

Yuuri’s not really sure if he’ll miss Yuri P. Every interaction they had was incredibly hostile in nature except for when Otabek was around and Yuri’s anger was slightly tempered.

Yuuri’s satisfied with his life in Barcelona, but after the two skating competitions back-to-back, it’s going to take a bit of adjustment to his more mundane living. He likes his mundane life, he has some friends that occasionally bring excitement, but he’s going to miss the energy and- it makes him sad he won’t really get to keep the friendships that had only started to bloom.

At the very least, he’s going to visit his _other_ other friends soon. His first friends, his home. He’s really looking forward to that, to Yuuko and her kids who must have gotten so big in his absence, to Minako and his sister. Even Takeshi, especially now that his bullying has subdued to good-natured ribbing and he doesn’t cross boundaries anymore (since Yuuri chewed him out a few years ago, specifically- but they don’t talk about that).

So, he has things to look forward to. Even if he’s not sure where he stands with Victor, or where he ever stood with Victor. It’s okay. He’ll move on, and his life is fulfilling in plenty of ways.

Maybe he’ll even start dating again, soon. Get on those apps Phichit is always talking about.

And before he knows it, Yuuri is on a plane to Japan, forehead resting against the window and mask covering his lips. Despite the myriad of emotions, thoughts, and feelings he’s had over the past few days, he’s mostly just excited to see his family, now.

Only a few hours, and he’ll be home at last.

\--

“You have a video of you skating a full routine?” Lutz asks, and Yuuri nods as he tightens his skates. He’s been in Japan for a day or two now, and he’s finally gotten around to making his way to the Ice Castle the same time the girls are there. They have been at his heels the whole time, but they decided they won’t join him on the ice for today.

“Yeah,” he confirms.

“Can we see it?” Loop asks, hope in her voice. Yuuri finishes with his skate and grabs his phone from his bag. He scrolls through his gallery and finds the first video, _On Love: Eros._

“Don’t snoop,” he requests, and the three girls nod their heads. They crowd in to see the phone.

Then, Yuuri walks over to the gate, places his hand on the half-wall of the rink to take off his skating guards, and steps onto the ice.

“So cool,” Axel coos at the Yuuri on the screen, skating an _excellent_ routine in a beautiful costume.

“I wonder if Victor Nikiforov has seen this? It’s his song from this year, you know,” Lutz says. Loop hums as she considers the question.

“No way Yuuri has posted it yet,” Loop decides.

“The world needs to see it,” Axel says with a certain awe to her.

“ _Victor_ needs to see it,” Lutz insists.

The three girls look at each other, their smiles growing wide.

They quiet down and tap at Yuuri’s phone for a few minutes, Lutz only looking up once to see Yuuri skate past as he does slow, lazy laps around the rink and hums to music that’s playing over the speakers in the rink.

The girls post the video to twitter, specifically so they can @ VictorNikiforov. Because he needs to see it.

After doing that, they get distracted scrolling through Yuuri’s twitter. They decide it’s too boring, because Yuuri doesn’t follow very many people, so they follow a few more accounts for him, such as @ChrisGiacometti and some other suggested accounts.

About three minutes later, notifications start to pop up, and their mother looks over at them with a questioning expression.

“Girls?” she says. They look over at her slowly. Then, Yuuri’s phone starts to ring and the girls eyes snap back to it. “Oh! I’ll take that,” Yuuko says, plucking the phone from their hands without a second thought as she picks up the call. 

“Yuuri!?” a male voice asks, in English with a Russian accent.

“Oh, sorry- he’s on the ice at the moment. Can I take a message?” Yuuko chirps. She assumes it’s just a random call, maybe a friend Yuuri made living in Europe. He’s been living there for a few years now.

“Oh,” the man says. “Um- I didn’t have anything planning to say. Is.. Is Yuuri in Japan still?”

“Yes! Hasetsu,” Yuuko confirms.

“His home town,” the man sounds thoughtful, and there’s a beat of silence before he chirps, “Okay. Thank you!”

“Okay,” Yuuko says, looking out at the ice, where Yuuri is spinning, “Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you- um, I didn’t get your name.”

“Yuuko.”

“Aahh. Thank you, Yuuko,” the man says, sounding cheerful.

“Goodbye!” Yuuko chirps. Then, she hangs up. Yuuri’s phone is starting to ding repeatedly from notifications and she looks down at her triplets. She shuts of the ringer on Yuuri’s phone and her belly fills with dread. Yuuko breathes in, “Girls… what did you do?”

Their giggles fill the air as they explain the video they uploaded, insisting they were doing a service to the skating otaku and the world. Yuuko groans loudly and puts Yuuri’s phone away.

“Okay. Don’t tell him,” she says quietly. She decides to wait until Yuuri is done skating to break the news.

A few hours later, when he’s off the ice and in the dressing room after showering and putting his things away, Yuuri is sitting on a bench as Yuuko explains what happened. He is, of course, entirely mortified.

His hands are shaking when he finally gets his phone back from Yuuko and clicks the twitter app. He’s got about 40 texts from Phichit and a smattering from other friends.

He’s got text from a number he doesn’t even have saved, which just says “ **EROS? I am living, Yuuri. I didn’t know you had it in you** ” with about 4 blushing faces and 4 heart eyes, then “ **Victor is a lucky man. I should have pursued you harder** ”

Yuuri ignores the texts from the mystery number, and the texts from Phichit, and _Celestino_ (although his coach’s texts are innocuous and congratulatory in nature, saying he’s happy and impressed with how much skill Yuuri’s retained and even built in his absence from the competitive scene)

Yuuri stares at Victor’s response to the triplet’s tweet, which reads:

‘yUURI?!! 😍😍😍’

And nothing else.

Yuuri clicks his message history again and looks for anything else from Victor, but there’s nothing. He clicks on his call history and sees that Victor called him, and a 4-minute conversation was had.

“He called?” Yuuri asks, and Yuuko looks sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“Oh, um, yeah! I didn’t realize who it was that called, the triplets didn’t tell me about this whole thing until _after_ I picked up the phone. Uh. He said he didn’t think of anything to say and just asked if you were still visiting family, and I said yes, then he let me go,” Yuuko explains as she recounts what she thought was just a random, innocuous conversation. 

“Oh,” Yuuri says, looking at the phone. He takes in a deep breath and hits Victor’s name to redial without giving himself time to think through the action. Yuuko waits, pressing her lips together and staring at the phone as it rings.

The answer message is in Russian, and then in English, with Victor saying “You’ve reached Victor! Leave a message” and some barking in the background, a laugh, and then the tone. Yuuri hits end call as soon as the tone beeps and blinks at his phone.

“Maybe he’s skating, too?” Yuuko suggests and presses her teeth together, trying to smile. Yuuri just puts his phone in his bag and collects his things, thanking Yuuko for letting him skate.

She apologizes on behalf of the girls again and Yuuri assures her it’s "…okay…" 

When he gets home, he goes through Phichit’s text, most of which are keysmashes and hHHHHHHHHHhhhHHHH mixed with his name, and Victor’s. Yuuri decides not to reply to Phichit for the moment.

He bites his lip and looks at the messages from the number he doesn’t have saved. He types **“…Is this Chris?”** and hits send before he can talk himself out of that, too.

 **“lol. Oui.”** Is the text back.

Yuuri says “ **lol** ” back and then finally hits twitter again, but he taps on and off of his notifications. He stares at Victor’s response to his video.

It seems… positive, at least. And Victor wants to talk to him, evidenced by the call. Yuuri doesn’t really know what to make of it.

Even though Yuuri didn’t leave a message, Yuuri figures surely Victor will see he called and return it.

For that reason, Yuuri decides not to try calling again.

An entire day goes by and Yuuri’s notifications on twitter continue to increase. There’s an article or two written about him and Victor, about the fact that he had made it to the GPF at the junior level, but stopped skating competitively at 18 due to extraneous circumstances.

Photos surface of Victor holding Yuuri’s hands at the World Championship, and then more photos surface of Yuuri leaning over the barrier to talk to Victor at the GPF. He only finds out due to Phichit’s screaming in his message history. Phichit pointed out to him that the group photo from after the Short Program at World’s where Victor was looking at Yuuri with a fond little smirk made it into the article too.

It seems like the whole skating world assumes they’re dating, based on a few photos, a video, and a tweet alone.

Yuuri finally responds to Phichit, but his response consists of “ **??????** ”

Phichit replies with “ **??? !!!! what do you mean ????? <\- those are bolded for emphasis.**”

Yuuri says “ **idk** ” then adds “ **idfk Phichit** ”

Phichit replies with, “ **asgjsfdhk. i am proud as fuck, Yuuri. but. WHY did you post the video sdjfgsgsdjkh? why now omg** ”

Yuuri types, “ **Oh**.” Then “ **lol**.” Then “ **I didn’t post it, I let my friend’s kids watch it and they posted it bcos they said the skating otaku would like it.** ”

Phichit replies with “ **X_X** ”, and then sends “ **idk if Victor counts as skating otaku but it seems like he liked it** ”

At that point, Yuuri puts his phone down and stares at his ceiling. Then, he flips on his side and stares at the stupid, silly posters of Victor all over his walls. Finally, he goes to sleep.

He sees Minako the next day and she almost laughs him out of the room over the whole thing but she’s incredibly pleased. She tries to grill him about what his status is with Victor and Yuuri tells her, honestly, he hasn’t heard from him yet.

“What?!” Minako gasps, pulling on her own hair. “Well, did you call him back?”

“I tried. He didn’t pick up,” Yuuri explains.

“Try again!” Minako urges. Yuuri grimaces and Minkao tries to grab for his phone but he doesn’t let her get to it.

Yuuri goes for a light jog in the afternoon, then spends most of the day at the Ice Castle, before showering in their locker rooms and heading home. 

When he arrives back at the onsen, the energy is…

weird.

There’s a dog barking, which is odd, and it brings back memories of his sweet Vicchan.

When he sees the dog, he even says, “Vicchan?” because the puppy looks _so_ similar to his own beloved pet. But that’s impossible. Still, Yuuri bends to pat the dog on the head.

“Bigger than Vicchan,” he says as the dog jumps at his chest and Yuuri tries not to fall over. “You look familiar… No, can’t be.”

“Yuuri! Doesn’t he look just like Vicchan?” his father asks him, jovial. “He came with an attractive foreigner! He’s at the hot springs now.”

Yuuri’s eyes grow wide as he eases the dog away from him slowly. Then, he takes off towards the baths with sudden fervour.

“Yuuri?” his father calls after him, but Yuuri is already scrambling down the hall.

He runs all the way through the building, checking rooms as he goes, until he gets to one of the natural springs, throws open the door and skitters to a stop, only to reveal a tall, Russian man with beautiful, silver hair sitting in the springs.

“Victor?” Yuuri asks, his breath coming in short pants from the running to get there. “What are you _doing_ here?” he asks.

Victor stands up and-

he’s naked.

Of course he’s naked, he’s in the hot springs. Yuuri hadn’t thought of that. He puts his hands over his face and he says, “Oh god, you’re naked.”

“Of course I am,” Victor says with a chuckle, “it’s in the rules!”

Yuuri places his hands over his eyes and turns away.

“Oh, Eros, so shy are you _now_ ,” Victor says, voice teasing.

“Please don’t,” Yuuri mumbles, his face heating up as he hears Victor step nearer. Victor laughs more.

“Am I embarrassing you? Or does my naked form repulse you, causing you to turn away,” Victor accuses, all drama and sulk.

“Victor,” Yuuri whines, high pitched, his hands still over his glasses which are fogging up from the warmth of the springs and the.. warmth.

“I came all the way here to be with my _Eros_ ,” Victor coos and Yuuri slips his fingers under his glasses, cowering as he feels Victor trail a finger up his arm. “Besides, _me_ being naked is only fair. I’ve seen most of you, after all. Now we’re even.”

“Just put on a robe,” Yuuri manages to whimper, fingers trembling just a bit. “Please,” he adds.

Victor walks away from him, laughing. Once he hears the rustling of fabric, Yuuri figures it’s safe enough for him to take his hands from his eyes.

Victor smiles at him and Yuuri manages to take the first deep breath since he stepped into the onsen. He gives Victor a smile in return, despite himself and his blush, as Victor walks over to him.

“We should, um, talk,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods, brushing his hand over the top of Yuuri’s hair.

“Food, first?” Victor asks. “Your mother said she would make _katsudon_!”

“You’ve already talked to my mother?” Yuuri asks, and Victor just nods.

“I’ve been here a few hours,” he chirps.

“Okay,” Yuuri says slowly. They walk back through the building, Yuuri ignoring the looks of the people he disturbed when he ran through like a bull in a china shop trying to find Victor in the first place. Victor just hums and follows along, reaching for Yuuri’s hand and lacing their fingers. Yuuri squeezes his hand.

They sit and eat the pork cutlet bowls with Yuuri’s mother, sister, and father. Victor compliments the dish multiple times over.

“How did you meet our Yuuri, Victor?” Hiroko asks him.

“Oh, we-” Victor starts.

“-Met when he was skating in the Grand Prix Finals. I was there to support Phichit,” Yuuri says.

“I ran into him, literally,” Victor recalls fondly, “I spilled his drink, and he let me replace it!”

“How gentlemanly,” Hiroko coos, and Victor holds his chin high.

“You’re a professional skater?” Toshiya asks.

“I am, for now. I will be retiring soon, but there are many prospects on the horizons,” Victor informs him, and Toshiya smiles. 

“So long as you can support yourself,” Toshiya says with a firm nod.

“I’m sure Yuuri could support us both with _his_ job,” Victor says, and Yuuri pinches him.

“Ne parlez pas de le _danse_ ,” Yuuri hisses in heavily accented but understandable French, to keep his parents in the dark.

“Oh, pourqoui? Ils ne savent pas?” Victor asks in much smoother French, tilting his head and glancing at Yuuri’s parents.

Yuuri’s parents look at each other in mild confusion and Mari shakes her head at the secret conversation.

“Bien sur que non! Pas les… détails,” Yuuri informs him, beginning to blush. “Ils sais je suis decord, c’est ca. Plus, c’est juste… inconfortable.”

“Ah, bon,” Victor says. “Désolé,” he adds, a little sheepish.

“C’est rien,” Yuuri says, breathing in through his nose. “Anyway,” he says, reverting to English so his parents can understand. “Victor’s won many metals as a figure skater, Outo-san,” Yuuri says.

“I know. You’ve told us many times,” Toshiya tells him with a fond chuckle. Yuuri’s cheeks stay red.

Victor throws his arm around Yuuri and pulls him in a half hug, which only makes his face redder.

As they finish up, Victor compliments the cooking again. When he does, Hiroko looks between them and says, “Yuuri, I like this one!”

“Okaa-san,” Yuuri mumbles, and she just smiles at him widely.

Mari barks a little laugh and his father chuckles too.

Victor yawns into his forearm and blinks at Yuuri. Yuuri takes the hint and pats Victor’s knee. “I’ll be right back,” he says, and he helps his parents clear the table as Victor lies on the floor as if he belongs there.

Yuuri thinks, well, maybe he does. Belong there, that is. Not on the _floor_ , exactly, but in the onsen. Here, in Japan. With him, essentially.

Yuuri pushes the thought out of his mind and finishes helping his parents.

He is about to wake up Victor, but then Minako barges through the door and he has to clam her down with regard to their new houseguest.

“Yuuri! What is he doing here?”

Yuuri is tempted to say “tormenting me” but he doesn’t get a chance.

“Is this because of that video that got popular? Your Eros routine? _You_ drew him in here, with your-“ Minako tilts her head back and covers her mouth, laughing as she searches for a word. “Your _wiles_?”

Yuuri shakes his head at her and tells her to shush or she’ll wake Victor. Minako waves her hand at him as she tries to quiet the giggles.

“You know, if I’d never met you as Eros, I’d say I didn’t think you had it in you. But it’s not that, obviously- still, I never pictured you following through on something like this, is all,” she says, voice low.

Yuuri glares at her, weakly. “It’s not like invited him. You’re giving me too much credit.”

“I guess,” Minako says. And then she asks his mother if she has wine around, and Yuuri turns to Victor.

Victor wakes just a moment later of his own accord. He pushes himself up then looks around, blinking with a pout until his eyes settle on Yuuri and he smiles warmly. Yuuri’s stomach does a flip and he goes over to Victor, kneeling next to him.

“You seem tired,” Yuuri tells him gently, “there’s a room in the inn next door I can bring you to.”

“You don’t want to show me to your room?” Victor asks, and a spike of fear runs down Yuuri’s spine.

“No,” he says plainly, and he ignores Victor’s pout. “I’ll come with you to the inn. So we can talk,” he adds, and Victor smiles.

Victor retrieves his bags from where he left them with Yuuri’s parents, and they offer to watch Makkachin for the night. Victor thanks them deeply for their hospitality and they wave before the two of them go to the inn right next door, owned by a couple around his parents age that Yuuri has known since childhood.

Victor’s on him as soon as they step into his room, his hands coming around Yuuri’s waist and pulling him close.

“Yuuri,” he whispers, and Yuuri places his hands on Victor’s chest, looking up at him through his glasses.

“Victor,” he returns, biting down on his lip.

“That routine was beautiful. Better, even, than my own choreography to _On Love: Eros_. You stole my breath away,” Victor’s lips drop to his neck and Yuuri tilts to allow him space to kiss without even thinking.

“Victor,” Yuuri sighs, Victor's lips hot on his skin. 

“What a way to catch my attention, зайчик,” Victor says, and Yuuri laughs softly.

Victor kisses up his neck, slowly, nipping at the skin and Yuuri shuts his eyes, breathing out.

“Wait, wait,” Yuuri says softly, as Victor kisses the edge of his jaw.

“Hm?” Victor pulls back part of the way, looking at Yuuri.

“I, um,” Yuuri clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to send out that video,” he confesses. Victor’s face falls for a second, which stabs Yuuri in the heart, and then Victor just tilts his head. 

“Oh?” Victor says, straightening his back. His hands are still at Yuuri’s waist, but his touch is lighter.

“My friend, the owner of the ice rink, Yuuko- her daughters uploaded it. They said something about the skating otaku loving it, a-and that it was good so it should be shared, and they tagged you because it was the same song as your routine, and, that’s it.”

“Oh,” Victor says again. He purses his lips.

“I wasn’t planning on _anyone_ seeing it- it was,” Yuuri blushes, “personal?”

“Ah,” Victor says. “But it was beautiful, Yuuri. You skated it perfectly. Honestly, if you were still in competitive skating, and you don’t even have a _coach-_ I agree with Yuuko’s daughters, it should be shared, and seen. You deserve to be appreciated. I knew you would be a gorgeous skater.”

Yuuri blushes hotly at the praise. “I’m sure it’s not _that_ good, but,” he sucks in his breath. “Well, I mean, it was the best time I preformed that routine. I’d filmed myself a couple times before.”

“Oh?” Victor tilts his head again. He’s so cute, like a puppy.

“That night was by far the best,” Yuuri says, something dawning on him. He smiles, and says, “There was something missing, all the other times.”

Victor nods, “I know the feeling. Somethings it takes time for things to click, but when they do, it’s glorious.”

“Actually,” Yuuri says. His hands are still lightly pressed on Victor’s chest, so he runs them up to Victor’s shoulders. “It _is_ , um, fitting. That they tagged you, when they uploaded it.”

“Huh?” Victor says. Yuuri knows he’s putting him through the wringer with the hot and cold, but he just swallows and nods.

“Yeah. I remember the night, and, I know what made the difference, when I skated the routine that time,” Yuuri tells him.

“What was it, Yuuri?” Victor presses, his hands sliding to hold Yuuri’s hips as Yuuri edges a little closer and slides his arms around Victor’s neck.

“You,” Yuuri confesses, coming across as more confident than he feels. “It was after we met- actually, it was after you won the gold at the Grand Prix Final. After you couldn’t keep your hands off me at L’Envie,” Yuuri’s lips play up in a cute and enticing little smile, fondly remembering the look on Victor’s face when he bent back in his lap gracefully.

“Oh,” Victor says, his eyes going a little dark with the change in mood. Yuuri smiles and nods.

“It was after I realized how much I… _wanted_ you,” Yuuri whispers. 

“Yuuri?” Victor murmurs, a hand moving to the small of his back.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you, now?” Victor requests.

Yuuri bites his lip, and nods.

Yuuri’s eyes flutter close as Victor leans down and presses a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. Yuuri feels it run through him, sending butterflies fluttering through his stomach. He holds Victor’s neck and feels Victor’s hands press into his back even as the kiss remains chaste.

It doesn’t remain chaste for long, though.

Victor presses his tongue to Yuuri’s lip and Yuuri knows exactly what he’s angling for, so he lets his tongue meet Victor’s and gasps pleasantly as Victor licks into his mouth and pulls him closer.

Yuuri tangles his hands in Victor’s pretty hair, pushing his tongue back into Victor’s mouth a moment later and feeling Victor hum against him.

“Yuuri,” Victor says against his lips, and then kisses him again.

A moment later, Yuuri murmurs, “Victor.”

They continue to kiss, Victor’s hands sliding down to cup Yuuri’s ass. Yuuri squeaks, but not in protest, and Victor laughs against his lips.

“Yuuuri,” Victor says again, as he moves to kiss Yuuri’s cheek and nuzzle him, his forehead bumping against the arm of Yuuri’s glasses. Yuuri uses the opportunity to take a breath, glancing down.

He feels Victor start to pull his glasses away and Yuuri allows him to, tries not to wince at the possibility of Victor poking him in the eye. Yuuri then takes his glasses from Victor as Victor leans to kiss him again, harder this time. Victor’s hand lands on his cheek and Yuuri makes a soft noise.

Their tongues meet once more as Yuuri feels himself being pushed gently. He takes the hint and steps back, and they move slowly towards the cute bed in the centre of the room without breaking their kiss. They only part when the back of Yuuri’s knees hit the edge of the mattress and Victor bites his lower lip gently.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, and then he glances over and leans to put his glasses on the nightstand next to the bed. Victor’s hands are slipping under his shirt, pressing into his flesh, and when Yuuri turns towards him again he brings their lips together once more. Victor eagerly kisses him back.

“Yuuri,” Victor says once more, and Yuuri has half a mind to joke that they sound like a broken record- having, for the past five minutes, repeatedly said each other’s names and nothing more. Victor’s hands are wandering further up.

Although Yuuri knows _logically_ Victor has seen him mostly naked before, it still brings a flush to his face all the same.

“What is it, Victor?” Yuuri finally asks, “are you trying to say something, or?” He tils his head as Victor kisses down his neck again. One of Victor’s hands has made it up his back and the other is squeezing his hip.

“Yes, I should say,” Victor starts, kissing up near Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri shuts his eyes and hums pleasantly. “Before we- I don’t just want this,” he says, pulling back.

Yuuri’s eyes open again and he frowns. “You don’t want this?”

“No, no,” Victor says, “I don’t want _just_ this,” he tries again, pulling back to look at Yuuri up and down.

“I… what?” Yuuri asks, biting his lip. He looks down between them, but Victor’s finger catches his chin to lift his head and kiss him again. Yuuri kisses back, despite the confusion.

“I mean to say, зайчик, I don’t just want your _body_ ,” Victor explains, squeezing Yuuri’s hips again, “You’re beautiful, and breathtaking, and wonderful and amazing. I _want_ you, but I also want to be _with_ you. I want that to be clear,” Victor admits, looking a little bashful.

Yuuri hadn’t realized Victor _could_ look bashful, with all his brazen hand kisses and knowing smirks. Yuuri’s fact is still hot and he’s not sure the red will leave his face _ever_ let alone any time soon. “Oh,” he says.

“I want to us to get to know each other, to give _us_ a real chance,” Victor tells him, and Yuuri pulls Victor down to kiss him without thinking, letting the words settle in his brain as Victor happily kisses him back.

“You want to be with me?” Yuuri asks as he breaks that kiss again, gaze flicking between Victor’s eyes and lips.

“Yes,” Victor insists, then he chuckles. “Honestly. Christophe warned me that I may not have been, um, clear enough, previously. But, Yuuri, I’ve wanted to be with you, well, since we met. I really like you.”

“Oh,” Yuuri murmurs, and Victor smiles, bright as the sun and completely adorable. Yuuri smiles back and kisses him again. “I want to be with you too.”

With that, Yuuri finds himself pushed onto the bed, Victor climbing on top of him and his hands skimming up and under Yuuri’s shirt again.

Yuuri moves to help him take it off, and Yuuri’s heartrate increases as he sees that same look of lust come over Victor’s face.

The look he thought was reserved for Eros, one he hadn’t really received as Yuuri before.

But, he’s obviously Yuuri now, and Victor looks like he wants to fuck him all the same.

“You really had no idea I was Eros until you saw the skating routine?” Yuuri asks as Victor leans down to kiss along his collar, and up to his neck.

“No,” Victor laughs, “I don’t know how. In my defense, most of the time we spent together at the rink you had on _way_ too much clothing.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes as Victor kisses up to his jaw. “I didn’t want you to find out,” he confesses.

“How come?” Victor asks, sitting up, running his hands over Yuuri’s chest with an appreciating touch. Yuuri shrugs.

“It’s awkward. Plus, I feel like Eros is an entirely different person,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods.

“Well, you do act very differently when you’re at work,” Victor says, and then his eyes light up. “Wait, is that why you suggested kissing me, and asked if ‘the guy I liked’ knew I was at a strip club, so I’d realize it was you I was thinking of?”

“I,” Yuuri presses his lips together and Victor tilts his head, “not really. I just said, I didn’t actually want you to realize. And- I didn’t know for sure it was me you were thinking of.”

Victor chuckles lightly again, “Of course it was you, Yuuri. Who else?”

Yuuri just gestures uselessly. “Literally anyone?”

Victor shakes his head, murmuring, “No. Only you.”

Yuuri blushes and Victor leans down again, kissing him sweetly before pushing his tongue back into Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri runs his fingers though Victor’s hair and moans against him, as Victor presses a knee between his legs.

Victor kisses Yuuri’s neck again, lips coming near his ear as he whispers, low, “How could you think I didn’t want you?”

“I-” Yuuri swallows, “I’m not used to people wanting me.”

“Now I know that’s not true,” Victor nips at his jaw again, pressing against his body as Yuuri groans, “you’re a _stripper_ , Yuuri. Countless people want you every night.”

“It’s- different,” Yuuri insists.

“You’re such an enigma,” Victor says, lifting to look Yuuri in the eyes. Once again, it sounds like the highest of compliments.

“In my defense,” Yuuri says slowly, “so are you.”

Victor just leans down and Yuuri pushes his tongue in Victor’s mouth this time, and then moves his hand to slip beneath the fabric of Victor’s loose robe and push it down his shoulder.

When Victor grinds down, Yuuri pushes his hips back up and hears Victor groan against him, too.

Then, Victor pulls back from him again and shrugs the top of the robe off. He still has shorts on, but they’re both topless now.

Yuuri places his hands on Victor’s abdomen and then slides them up, feeling the lines of Victor’s body under his fingertips. 

Then, he glances down between them and bites his lip.

Yuuri wills himself not to get suddenly insecure at the sight of stretch marks on his own body or get lost in comparisons between their physiques. Victor has seen him in nearly nothing already, Victor has made it clear he wants to fuck him. He’s been through this song and dance, made peace with his body many times over. He doesn’t need to feel anxious right now.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks, and Yuuri looks back up at him. “Are we going too fast?”

“No,” Yuuri murmurs, and then he reaches for Victor and Victor leans back down to kiss him.

“Tell me if you want to stop?” Victor asks between kisses. Yuuri nods, bringing his hands to Victor’s neck.

“Same goes for you,” Yuuri mumbles, and Victor nods.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Victor says with scrunch of his nose, glancing Yuuri up and down. Yuuri chuckles softly. “You’re so beautiful,” Victor whispers, and Yuuri kisses him again.

Victor runs his hands over Yuuri’s body and they kiss, slowly, until Yuuri starts kissing down Victor’s neck this time and gets treated to the soft noises Victor makes as he twists his fingers in Victor’s hair.

They move against one another again, and this time they don’t stop to chat, instead they just moan until Victor finds Yuuri’s lips again and kisses him. Yuuri can feel them both getting hard.

“Yuuri,” Victor moans against him, and Yuuri bites his lower lip gently. “Let me fuck you,” Victor requests, and Yuuri nods.

“Do you have, um…?” Yuuri tilts his head as Victor sits up, and Victor just nods, climbing off him and going over to his bag.

Yuuri moves to sit more in the middle of the bed as he watches Victor dump out an entire toiletry bag filled with lube, condom, and some… toys into his suitcase.

“Oh. Um, yep. You came prepared,” Yuuri says, and Victor laughs, grabbing a bottle of the lube and condoms before standing up fully.

“Better safe than sorry,” Victor says responsibly, and Yuuri nods. His face is blood red, he’s sure.

Victor sits in front of him on the bed and pulls Yuuri close to kiss again, and Yuuri puts his arms on Victor’s shoulders.

“So, you want me to be the one to…?” Victor glances Yuuri up and down.

“If you want,” Yuuri says, and Victor smirks and kisses him on the cheek.

“Are you okay on your back?” Victor asks, and Yuuri nods this time, so Victor pushes him down gently and Yuuri breathes in deeply.

Victor kisses down his chest, and then along his stomach. Yuuri bites his lip as Victor nuzzles his face where he has those stretchmarks. Victor then sits back up and hooks his fingers in Yuuri’s pants, then tilts his head.

“You sure we’re not moving too fast?” Victor asks again, and Yuuri shakes his head.

“It’s not that,” Yuuri says, and then he places his hands on his hips, near Victor’s hands on his waistband.

“What is it?” Victor asks. Yuuri presses his lips together.

“You’re going to think this is silly,” he warns, and Victor perks a brow. “I just- I still get insecure about my body,” he confesses, “even though I get nearly naked for strangers for a living.”

Victor smiles at him, bright and almost innocent. “You’re right. I do think that’s silly.”

Yuuri scoffs. “Victor." 

“You’re clearly gorgeous, Yuuri,” Victor tells him, and then starts to slowly tug at Yuuri’s pants, and Yuuri lifts his hips for Victor to get them down part way.

“I guess,” Yuuri mutters, moving to help Victor pull his pants off completely, officially in nothing but his underwear. He skims his fingers along the stretchmarks and sighs. He hasn’t had issues with them in years.

Victor sits up and strokes his thumbs along a stretchmark, too, and Yuuri frowns at him.

“I have them too, you know,” Victor points out, and Yuuri perks a brow. “On my legs, from when I grew tall suddenly as a teenager. They represent nothing more than change, моя любовь.”

Yuuri just nods. “I know. Normally I don’t mind them, actually... I, well, I’m confident _sometimes_. More often than I used to be, at least. It’s just hard now and then, is all.” 

“I think you’re beautiful,” Victor says softly, and then he leans over Yuuri and kisses him again.

“Hm. Well. I think _you’re_ beautiful,” Yuuri tells him.

“We’re not talking about me,” Victor says, teasing, and they kiss another couple times.

“It’s true, though,” Yuuri says, running his hands up and down Victor’s sides slowly. Victor smiles and kisses Yuuri’s neck once more.

“Yuuri,” Victor says again, clearing his throat. “I mean it, if you’re not comfortable, we can wait.”

“I _want_ to have sex with you, though,” Yuuri pouts a little, and Victor laughs.

“There is no way I’m refusing you if you want it,” Victor informs him. “I just don’t want to push.”

“You’re not. I feel okay, promise. I know it’s not rational to worry you don’t like how I look _now_ , you’ve seen me this naked a bunch of times and you still want me,” Yuuri states as a matter-of-fact, like something his therapist would tell him.

“You _are_ being irrational,” Victor chirps, and then he goes on, with something of growl to his voice this time, “I do want you.”

His tone of voice makes Yuuri shiver. He takes a deep breath before saying, “Then take me.”

Victor nods silently, eyes flicking up and down Yuuri’s body again, before he bends down to kiss along his chest once more. Yuuri plays with Victor’s hair and does what he can to steady his breathing as Victor slowly caresses his body as he moves down, eventually kissing the skin just above the elastic of Yuuri’s underwear as Yuuri tightens his fingers in Victor’s hair.

“Can I?” Victor asks as he moves to hook his fingers in said elastic, and Yuuri nods, moving so they can take off his underwear. Victor bites his lip and smiles at him, brushing his fingers along Yuuri’s inner thigh before slowly taking Yuuri’s cock in his hand and stroking him a couple of times.

Yuuri sighs at the contact, pushing himself to sit up and kiss Victor, running his hands up and down Victor’s chest again. Victor grabs the bottle of lube and pours out a bit before taking Yuuri’s cock again.

“Victor,” Yuuri gasps, and Victor bends to kiss his neck as Yuuri slides his fingers in the band of Victor’s pants as well. “Can we- can I not be the only one naked?” he asks, and Victor mumbles a ‘mhmm’ against his shoulder.

Victor moves to take off his shorts as well and Yuuri swallows, marveling at Victor’s body. Yuuri puts a hand on Victor’s thigh and smiles at him, glancing at the smattering of stretchmarks that Victor mentioned earlier, before tracing his fingers up and tentatively trailing one finger along the side of Victor’s cock and then closing his hand around it.

Victor lets out a little sigh and they meet in the middle to kiss as Victor takes Yuuri’s cock a third time and they lazily stroke each other, feeling each other’s bodies.

After a few moments of their gentle, slow touching, Victor cups Yuuri’s cheek with his free hand, then pulls back slowly, and moves to push Yuuri down on the bed again. Yuuri gets the idea and lies back down as Victor comes between his thighs.

Victor kisses Yuuri as he brushes his fingers along Yuuri’s inner thigh again, moving up, eventually skimming close to his hole. Yuuri breaks their kiss to breathe out, biting his lip and looking up at Victor through his lashes.

“This okay?” Victor asks, moving to push Yuuri’s thighs further apart and up a bit. Yuuri nods, and then Victor grabs the lube from the bed again.

Yuuri shuts his eyes a moment when Victor starts to work a finger inside him slowly. The sensation is admittedly one that he’s pretty used to, because he does it by himself. But it’s different to have someone else, and he can’t help but blush when he looks up to see Victor’s face and the heat in his expression...

“You’re breathtaking. I could watch you all day,” he says, and Yuuri just presses his lips together and makes a noise in the back of his throat.

Yuuri twists his fingers in the sheets as Victor stretches him slowly and gently, adding another finger, and then another. Yuuri does his best to keep his moans at a reasonable level. He _is_ at an inn right next door to his parents house, owned by people he considers practically family. He really doesn’t want them to overhear. 

But Victor doesn’t make it easy, between his lusty gaze and the feel of his fingers inside of Yuuri and his other hand skimming along Yuuri’s hip every once in a while.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Victor murmurs, and Yuuri nods.

Another few moments later, and Yuuri takes a deep breath, “I’m ready,” he tells Victor.

Victor bites his lip and then smiles, slowly easing his fingers out before he grabs the condom to roll onto his cock. Yuuri feels anticipation run through his body as he watches him. God, he’s turned on.

Yuuri shifts a bit as Victor comes closer and hooks a hand under one of Yuuri’s knees. Yuuri angles his body up a bit as Victor strokes his own cock a few times, and then lines up their bodies to push himself in.

Yuuri shuts his eyes again for a beat as he moans softly. It’s a lot more than fingers, but not too much. He lifts a hand to Victor’s shoulder and holds onto him as Victor presses a kiss to his temple.

“Okay?” Victor asks, and Yuuri nods.

“You can move,” Yuuri murmurs, moving to catch Victor’s lips in a kiss again. Victor kisses him back and then slowly adjusts his position so he can thrust his hips gently to start.

Yuuri presses his lips to Victor’s shoulder to muffle his moaning, relishing in Victor gasps and groans of pleasure in his ear. As Victor finds a pace, Yuuri hooks his leg around Victor’s waist, pushing up to meet his thrusts and make him move a little harder.

Victor takes the hint and thrusts more deeply, until they’re moving and moaning together. Yuuri feels heat curl in his core, building on the actions that lead them to this point.

Part of him wants to ask Victor to fuck him _harder_ , but he decides to let them keep it on the gentle. He really likes what Victor is doing now and while he’s sure it would be great to get it fast and hard, they’ll have time for that later, won’t they?

Then, Victor slows even further and Yuuri wines, but Victor is moving a little to change positions so he can sit up and take Yuuri’s cock in his hand.

“God, Victor,” Yuuri whines, and Victor smirks down at him.

“You’re gorgeous,” Victor says, and Yuuri reaches for Victor’s hip and digs his nails just a little, but Victor doesn’t seem to mind. “You feel so good, Yuuri.”

Yuuri tilts his head back and groans, biting down on his lip. With Victor’s hand on his cock, he’s having a harder time keeping his voice down, but he still tries. “Victor, I…” Yuuri breathes, pressing his lips together.

“Come for me,” Victor tells him, and Yuuri blushes harder than he already was, somehow, looking up into Victor’s eyes as his breath hitches.

Yuuri comes with a soft noise, nails digging into Victor’s skin again. Victor makes a beautiful face as Yuuri squeezes around him.

Yuuri encourages him to keep moving a few moments later and Victor thrusts a few more times before he comes, too, gripping Yuuri’s hip with one of his hands.

“Victor,” Yuuri murmurs as he slowly pulls out, getting up to do away with the condom. Yuuri stares at the ceiling for a moment before looking over as Victor hops back onto the bed with him and kisses him eagerly again.

Yuuri laughs against his lips and then Victor is nuzzling his cheek and curling around him, throwing a leg over Yuuri’s and placing his head on Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri brings his hand up to play with Victor’s hair as he hums. It occurs to Yuuri that he needs to tell Phichit about this new development ASAP, though, he could stand to put his clothes on before he does that.

“You’re cute,” Yuuri murmurs, his mind starting to wander as he thinks of the implications of all of this. He sighs, quietly, and says, “I guess… hm.”

“Hm?”

“I guess we won’t have to clarify to the skating world that we’re _not_ together, because, um, I guess we are together,” Yuuri says, and Victor tilts his head. “We are… together, right?”

“Yes,” Victor says, “I hope. There are some details we need to figure out...”

“I live in Spain, you live in Russia,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods.

“But I’m retiring from skating and I haven’t figured out what to do with my life yet! How convenient. Now I can just become your trophy husband,” Victor says with a wicked smirk as Yuuri’s eyes go wide. “Too soon?”

“To talk about marriage? Yes,” Yuuri says, and Victor cackles.

“Okay, I’ll ask again in a few months.”

“Try at least a year,” Yuuri mutters, and Victor nods.

“A year.” He agrees, and kisses Yuuri again. Yuuri kisses back, his hand coming to Victor’s cheek.

They have a lot more to talk about, but Yuuri figures that can come a bit later. They don’t need to rush into things, even if Victor is absurd enough to claim he wants to marry Yuuri already.

They feel the same for one another, and that’s enough as a foundation for a relationship. Everything else will come and hopefully, if they’re lucky, it will fall into place with the work they’re willing to put in for each other.

Yuuri’s hopeful. He likes Victor, a lot, and he knows for sure now that Victor likes him a lot too.

It was really pretty obvious, Yuuri can admit, he just errs on the side of caution and his anxiety and self-worth issues makes it difficult to comprehend when people like him. Victor might need to assure him again in the future, but, if he’s worth keeping around Victor will be okay with that.

And Yuuri thinks he will.

They fit well together, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New translations in this chapter: 
> 
> Okaa-san – Mom  
> Outo-san – Dad  
> “Ne parlez pas de le danse” - “Don’t talk about the dance”  
> “Oh, pourqoui? Ils ne savent pas?” - “Oh, Why? They don’t know?”  
> “Bien sûr que non! Pas les… détails,” - “Of Course not. Not the details…”  
> “Ils sais que je suis decord, c’est ca. Plus, c’est juste… inconfortable.” - “They know that I’m okay, that’s all. Plus, it’s just uncomfortable.”  
> “Ah, bon” - “Oh, okay.”  
> “Désolé” – “Sorry.”  
> “C’est rien” - “It’s nothing.”
> 
> ** please note I wrote most of the French ones as I would say them as a non-proficient French speaker, so if they're a bit awkward. i think that's actually fair as French neither of their first languages either, haha (of course, they might not make the same type of mistakes as anglophones would but it's fanfic)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the short epilogue!

“What’s this?” Stefano asks, taking his hand. Eros grins, wiggling his finger. “A wedding band?”’

“Engagement ring,” Eros explains, glancing over at the bar. Stefano looks in his line of sight.

“Ooh, the mystery boyfriend becomes the fiancé! Which one is he?” he asks, and Eros bites his lip.

“The guy with the silver hair, in the red and white jacket,” Eros says, and he sees Victor wink at him. He waves, and then looks at Stefano again.

“Congratulations, mio bello,” Stefano says, and Eros offers him a hug. Stefano accepts it happily.

“Hey, so,” Eros clears his throat, “you know I’ve really been cutting back on my hours here.”

“I’ve noticed, yes,” Stefano says, and Eros sighs lightly with another little nod.

“I’m leaving, soon,” Eros admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I handed in my resignation a day ago, but I wanted to let you and a couple others in person,” Eros says, taking Stefano’s hand. Stefano nods.

“I’ll be sad to see you go. But, I’m happy for what comes next, for you. A good husband is a blessing.”

Eros smiles and nods at his words. “Obviously, I wouldn’t normally do this, but- would you mind if I give you my number? I’d like to keep in touch. If you don’t want, that’s okay.”

“Of course not! Here,” Stefano takes out a cellphone and Eros glances behind his shoulder before taking it to put his number in. “I look forward to the invite to your wedding,” he laughs. 

“I expect your finest wine as a gift,” Eros tells him, handing the phone back, and Stefano chuckles.

“Absolutely,” he assures him. Eros hugs Stefano again, and then trails away.

He’s already told Hugo, and of course Phichit and Chris knew before he made the decision to hand in the resignation. Yuuri can still hear the echoes of Phichit's scream at the engagement rings. 

Although he still has two weeks to work, he doesn’t have very many shifts scheduled, and he should probably put in his all for the ones he does have left. However... 

Yuuri walks up to Victor, and smiles brilliantly at him.

“Hey there,” Eros says, and Victor looks him up and down shamelessly.

“Hello,” Victor purrs, drumming his fingers on the bar.

“Anyone sitting here?” Eros asks, gesturing to the bar stool, and Victor shakes his head.

“I was hoping my fiancé might join me tonight, but, I haven’t seen him around,” Victor says, looking over his shoulder.

“Ah. I can’t fathom letting someone who looks like _you_ loose in a place like this,” Eros says, skimming his fingers up Victor’s forearm.

Victor smirks at him, “There are… certain temptations.” Yuuri laughs, because he can’t help it.

“What your fiancé doesn’t know won’t hurt him, hm?” Yuuri asks, and Victor laughs, too.

“Eros,” he coos, and Yuuri rolls his eyes.

“You’re so bad at this game,” Yuuri scolds, and Victor laughs.

“I find it hard to pretend I’d ever have eyes for another,” Victor shrugs, and then he turns to order them some drinks.

Yuuri sips his drink as Victor _very_ subtly brushes his fingers against his waist, touching in ways Yuuri would never let real patrons get away with. 

“Eros, dance for me,” Victor says, coming a bit too close to his face.

“You don't need me to dance for you,” Yuuri says, gently pushing Victor away by the chest. “I never should have let you come tonight,” he rolls his eyes.

The bartender perks a brow at them, probably not exactly listening, but noticing how close Victor is getting. Yuuri leans over the bar and she turns slightly, glancing between them.

“Hi, Anna. This is my boyf- my _fiancé_ ,” Yuuri says and the woman lifts her chin in understanding, and then smiles and moves to the next patron that just came up to the bar.

“But you did! So- dance for me,” Victor requests again. “I’ll pay you.”

“I dance for you _for free_ all the time,” Yuuri points out.

“And I never tire of it,” Victor says, and he almost reaches up to play with Yuuri’s hair and then stops himself.

“Honestly, this is worse than after the time you won gold at the Grand Prix,” Yuuri complains, and Victor smirks.

“For the-”

“ _Sixth_ time, yes,” Yuuri says, and Victor grins cheekily.

“Dance for me,” Victor asks a third time, reaching to hold Yuuri’s hand under the bar. Yuuri sighs, and then smiles.

“Fine. Only if you promise to leave me alone afterwards so I can work in peace,” Yuuri says, and Victor claps his hands.

“Okay, I promise,” Victor says, and Yuuri sighs. He doesn’t believe him for a second.

Still, Yuuri takes his hand and, as soon as they stumble into the private rooms, Victor turns him around and kisses him.

“This is,” Yuuri mumbles against Victor's lips, kissing back, “highly _unprofessional_.”

Victor says nothing, only drops his lips to kiss Yuuri on the neck.

“Do _not_ cover me in hickies again,” Yuuri whines, and Victor just pulls him flush against his body.

Yuuri lets him, for a few moments, before he takes Victor’s elbows and directs him back towards the couch and pushes him down.

“Oh, Eros- so aggressive,” Victor muses, and Yuuri climbs into his lap and runs his fingers through Victor’s hair and then kisses him, hard.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Yuuri tells him, “this is the _last_ time you’re allowed in my workplace, and then in two weeks I’m _done_.”

“No, you have to let me come on your last night, too,” Victor whines, and Yuuri shakes his head no. “Yuuri,” Victor pouts.

Yuuri just kisses him again, bouncing on his lap with little grace.

“Think we could get away with actually fucking in here?” Victor asks him, and Yuuri’s cheeks burn bright.

“That’s… a line I don’t want to cross,” Yuuri says, and Victor nods.

“We won’t, then,” Victor says, and then Yuuri hums.

“It _would_ be a good way to go out, though,” Yuuri muses, and Victor laughs.

“Maybe on your last night?” Victor suggests, and Yuuri leans to kiss him again.

“I already told you, you’re not gonna be here on my last night.”

“But Yuuri- I’ve already invited Christophe.”

“Wait, really?” Yuuri asks, and Victor fixes him with a look.

“He’d be crushed if he didn’t get to see you one last time.”

“I… could still dance at his place, though. He literally has a pole in his house.”

“You know it’s not the same,” Victor tells him, and Yuuri shrugs. “Anyway. There’s no way he gets to be here and I don’t. Isn’t Phichit coming too?”

“Phichit did say he wanted to come see me before I’m done for good, that’s part of why I put off resigning until he’d be coming for a visit. God, I feel like this is just- my version of the Worlds or something.”

“Might as well be,” Victor says, “and you always get gold in my eyes.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, big, and Victor laughs. “I didn’t even turn on music,” Yuuri realizes, slowly getting off Victor’s lap to do just that. 

Victor sits up straighter as Yuuri finally starts to actually dance. When Yuuri comes close, Victor makes no attempt to prevent himself from reaching out and touching. Even if Yuuri does let Victor pay, he’d never treat his fiancé as a regular patron.

When Yuuri settles into Victor’s lap, he smooths his hand on Victor’s shoulder and smiles at the ring on his finger when it catches the light.

They’ve been dating 11 months.

Yuuri knew Victor was planning to propose, having been true to his word and intending to wait a full year. That’s how Yuuri was able to surprise him, a month early.

He did it near the rink where they first _really_ met. It was lowkey, and private. Intimate.

Victor was elated, and not at all upset Yuuri beat him to it. He accepted with no hesitation, and then offered Yuuri the ring he’d already bought to propose to him, and Yuuri accepted in turn. 

Phichit _was_ upset that he didn’t get to witness it in person, but Victor sent him (and Christophe, and their families and other friends) photos of their rings before they went public.

Yuuri leans down to kiss Victor again, still not at his best, most sensual dancing because, frankly, he’s too distracted by the attractive man beneath him. If Victor minds, he doesn’t say anything, just runs his hands up Yuuri’s back and kisses him softly.

“I love you,” Victor murmurs against his lips, and Yuuri smiles, warm and bright.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
